Officer Down
by InfinityStar
Summary: Two words that had the power to turn lives upside down...
1. Targets With Badges

_Officer down._

Those two words hit every cop hard, right in the gut. As they echoed across the scene, fear gripped Eames' heart. She had no idea where her partner was. For the first time in far too many months, everything between them was good. Very good, in fact. She had succeeded in easing him back from the precipice his mother's death had thrust him far too close to, and she was certain it was only a matter of time before things progressed even further. She had known for years that she loved the big, gentle man she called partner. Now, she knew she was in love with him, too. She was getting closer to discovering his feelings on the matter as well. It was a slow, but rewarding process.

_Officer down._

Frantically, she searched the area, looking for his unmistakable outline in the dark. More shots rang out, and people scurried like ants in a disturbed nest, searching for cover from the bullets. Dodging behind a tree, she caught her breath when a bullet buried itself in the bark near her head. Whoever was shooting at them meant business. Her eyes continued to search for him. Where the hell could he have gone? It was more difficult to keep track of her 6'4" partner at a crime scene than it was to keep track of her 3'4" nephew in a crowded mall.

Fear got the better of her, and she abandoned her cover to search for the downed officer, unable to swallow the feeling of dread that attempted to choke off the breath in her throat. She knew him too well. As the people around him scrambled for cover, he would be in the middle of everything, trying to figure out where the shots were coming from. That was her partner...watch out for the other guy, protect the innocent, never believe that anyone can hurt you...

She heard disembodied words filtering through the air as if in a nightmare..._Bleeding out...get the bus here now...hang on there...losing him..._

Losing him? Losing who? No! If she lost him, what would her life become? Boring...mundane...lonely. If she lost him, she would lose part of herself as well, a part she would never recover, a vital part of her being that made her whole.

The gunfire had subsided and activity around the crime scene resumed. More marked cars arrived as the search for the sniper began. She saw the cluster of cops gathered around the prone body of a fellow officer. Several men bent over him, frantically trying to keep him alive while sirens wailed urgently in the distance. Her eyes were drawn to a hand on the ground beside the knee of one of his rescuers. It wasn't Bobby, but that knowledge gave her little relief. A fellow officer was fighting for his life...

But the panic had subsided, taking with it the pounding rush of blood in her ears, allowing the sounds from the surrounding scene access to her brain.

_Where the hell is that bus!_

_The blood flow has slowed...don't move your hand..._

_Is he dead?_

_No. Not yet._

She didn't recognize any of the voices, but she finally did recognize the broad back of the man kneeling beside his fallen comrade, his salt and pepper curls, in need of a trim, dripping with sweat, shoulders heaving from exertion or emotion. She wasn't certain which. She made her way through the knot of spectators to his side. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she looked down at the injured man. Her eyes were drawn to his wound. Shot in the back on his right side, the exit wound opened a fair-sized hole in his abdomen. And there, in the hole, was her partner's gloved hand, staunching the flow of blood with direct pressure to a damaged vessel, an act that would give the man a chance to survive. She saw a mixture of admiration and disgust in the faces of the cops around them.

Then her eyes found the face of the fallen officer and she understood that the tremor she felt coursing through her partner's body was not entirely caused by adrenaline. A soft gasp escaped from her as she recognized the injured man. _Mike..._

Immediately, her eyes went in search of his partner, finally locating her sitting on the ground near a large oak tree, her head buried in folded arms which were propped on her knees. Leaning closer to Goren, she brought her mouth close to his ear. "I'm going to take care of Wheeler."

He acknowledged her with a tight nod. It never even occurred to her that he had not said a word. As she left the small knot of officers, another shout went out for the paramedics, who had just arrived, to move their asses.

She sat on the ground beside Wheeler, who was trembling, and draped her arm over the young woman's shoulders. Wheeler leaned into her. In subdued tones, she spoke, "After the first shot, he knocked me down. I didn't see what happened, but he fell nearby. Even though there were bullets flying all over the place, Bobby never hesitated. He went right to Mike. Then more guys came and I just got out of the way. Did you see all the blood, Alex?"

"It'll be okay, Megan. He'll be okay."

"Eames..." She looked up at the officer who spoke. "Your partner went to the hospital with Logan. They wouldn't let him...well...he had to keep doing whatever the hell he was doing. They're going to NYU. My partner and I can give you both a lift, if you want."

"Thanks." She turned to the young detective beside her. "Come on, Megan."

She knew only too well the loneliness of sitting vigil in a hospital waiting room, holding your breath for news of an injured partner...

* * *

Several officers had been injured by the sniper, and the waiting room was full of cops. Eames had expected her partner to be there, but he wasn't and she figured he was staying with Logan. Several months ago, in a gesture of empathy, Logan had gone with Goren to O'Shaunessey's, a tavern in Logan's Irish-American neighborhood, after both teams had suffered an incredibly long and very difficult week. Eames had gone to her parents' house, knowing her partner was with Logan and doing okay. His mother had not had a good week either, dealing a double whammy to him. Logan had lost his abusive mother to a long battle with alcoholism, so he knew something of Goren's pain. Logan was not as emotionally sensitive as Goren was, but he was making an honest effort to reach out to a man near the edge, with only Eames keeping him from the abyss. 

Logan had been successful, and the two men had begun spending more time together. They were bonding, she'd teased. But she had noticed an improvement in her partner's behavior and attitude, and for that she was eternally grateful to Logan. She'd had a very hard time with Goren when his mother had finally succumbed to her cancer, and Logan had been there to help. She owed him a lot, and so did her partner.

Doctors came and went, but still there was no word about Logan. And Goren had not shown up either. Within the first hour of their vigil, Ross arrived. Alert eyes scanned the room, quickly locating Eames and Wheeler, who were sitting together on the far side of the room. He strode with purpose to his two detectives. "What happened?" he demanded.

Eames let Wheeler explain while she withdrew and moved to stand near the fish tank, arms crossed, concern growing as time passed and still Goren remained absent. Ross approached her after giving Wheeler a hug of encouragement and comfort. He touched her arm. "Where's your partner?"

"I don't know, captain. He was with Logan."

"Was he injured?"

"No. He was...rendering first aid, and they made him go along in the ambulance. He was...applying pressure to an injury and they needed him to keep doing it."

"So why the hell did I get a report that two of my detectives were down?"

"I have no idea."

"It must have been a misunderstanding. Has there been any word at all about Logan?"

"No, sir. Nothing."

Ross remained with his detectives, intermittently talking to them as well as to the other captains who arrived to learn of the fate of their own men who had fallen to the sniper's gun.

* * *

**A/N: I have two scenarios for this one, both partially written. Since I can't decide between the two, I'll let my readers decide. What do you want to happen with Goren?**


	2. Waiting

**A/N: Thank you for the suggestions and the input. Feel free to keep it coming. **

* * *

Eames was not surprised to see Wheeler remain near the captain. He was familiar and she had to be feeling uncertain, at best, and worried about her partner. She would trust Ross for reassurance and turn to him for comfort. As hard as he tried not to play favorites, it was gradually becoming more obvious that Ross trusted Eames and he protected Wheeler. The two loose cannons they were partnered with were his biggest headache but he was learning from experience how to handle each of them. Goren did best when left alone with Eames to run their investigations as they saw fit. Logan...well, Logan was Logan...and he kept a close eye on him, but so far, he'd had no problems worth noting. In his own way, Logan was a bigger headache than Goren would ever be, but he valued the man's integrity and honesty. Logan didn't usually toe the line in the same way Goren did, but he was a powder keg. Hold a match to Goren, and he wasn't likely to explode unless he was already pushed to that limit. Logan, it seemed, lived near that explosive limit and it didn't take much more than a spark to ignite his anger. It took even less for him to lose his grip on it. He was hoping that Wheeler would calm him down, without getting hurt in the process. So he watched Logan more closely, content with letting Eames keep her eye on Goren. So far, it was working...

Eames silently ran over the night's events in her mind. When the call came to Ross from the mayor asking for Major Case to get to the scene of a murdered couple in Central Park near the Zoo, he decided to send two teams to investigate. Since she and her partner, along with Logan and Wheeler, were still in the squad room, both wrapping up cases, he sent them.

A hand touched her shoulder and she looked into Ross' dark eyes. "I'm going to go find out what I can. I'm concerned about your partner. I don't like not knowing where he is. Keep an eye on Wheeler for me; she's still upset."

"I will."

He left the room and Eames walked over to Wheeler, sitting down beside her. Quietly, the younger detective said, "I'm finally getting used to Mike. Did it take you long to get used to Bobby?"

Eames had to laugh at that question. Sometimes it seemed like she was _still_ getting used to him. "Oh, yes. Bobby will never be accused of being conventional. It took me a long time to get used to him, and to realize he's not the crackpot everyone thinks."

"I didn't know what to make of either of them. Mike...unsettled me for awhile, and Bobby...intimidated me. He still does sometimes."

"He does that to people. And so does Mike, when he needs to."

Wheeler sighed and got up to pace the room, which was not as full as it had been before. As news came of other fallen officers, the room began to empty. And still there was no word.

* * *

Eames watched the fish swimming around the large tank, going around and around and thinking they were getting someplace. She felt the same way..swimming in circles, getting nowhere, but thinking that she was. As each moment passed, she knew they were hurtling through time toward the moment they would find out what had happened, and that made her apprehensive. They knew Mike had been shot and was most likely now in surgery. Bobby was just missing, and that made her more nervous. She didn't think he had been hurt...but she hadn't checked either. What if he _had_ been shot...and she didn't know...? 

She chased those thoughts from her mind, not allowing herself to dwell on something she did not know for certain had happened. Instead she forced herself to focus on the fish.

And she focused well. She tuned out the things around her...the worried cops, pacing and talking in hushed voices with one another, the doctors coming and going with news of other cops, of ones who were still holding on and ones who had already let go, the hospital noises she was too familiar with, bringing back memories of her recent days spent recovering from a nightmare... She let it all slip to the back of her mind, out of her conscious awareness as she focused on the fish.

She was brought back to the reality of the waiting room when a pair of strong hands came to rest on her waist, holding her firmly as a scruffy cheek pressed into the side of her head. A familiar voice was carried on the breath that whispered past her ear, sending an overwhelming relief coursing through her system. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

She leaned into him in case her legs decided to give way beneath her. He was all right... "Where the hell were you?"

"With Logan. It-It took awhile to stabilize him."

"He's in surgery now?"

"Yes. I watched for a little while through the observation window. There was a lot of damage, but he has a good chance."

She tipped her head back so she could see his face, which looked pale to her, but she dismissed it as the lighting. "Does that have anything to do with what you did?"

His eyes were focused on the curve of her throat. He moistened his lips and shrugged as he shifted his gaze to her eyes. "You'll have to ask the doctors that."

Turning into his arms, she hugged him, and then she smacked his arm. "You scared me," she hissed. "I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, and I'll wait with you."

She studied his face more closely and frowned. His skin was still covered with a sheen of sweat and now she was certain it wasn't the lighting making him appear pale. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I just spent two hours with my hand in a man's gut, Eames, trying not to let him die...a man I know, a friend..."

She rested her hand on his arm and felt the same tremor that had been present at the scene. "You did all you could..."

"I know. It wasn't...a very popular move, but I couldn't...wouldn't...let him die, not if I could do anything to help him."

She convinced herself that it was the downside of his adrenaline rush that he was now experiencing. After all, if he was injured, he ought to know it. "Are you sure you're okay, Bobby?"

"I'm sure, Alex."

His use of her first name reassured her, as he meant it to. She turned the topic to Logan's partner. "Did you talk to Wheeler?"

"Uh, not yet. Where is she?"

Eames stepped away from him, eyes searching for Wheeler who had moved from the last place she'd been. Spotting her, she crossed the room and sat beside her. "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I know how you feel."

Eames looked up at her partner, towering above them. He dropped to a knee in front of them, placing a large hand over Wheeler's small one. "He's doing all right, so far."

"How did you do that?"

He looked confused. "Do what?"

"What you did...for him..."

"If I upset you..."

"No...It's not that at all. You did something I could never have done, something most of the cops there would not have done. How did you do it?"

His eyes focused someplace else and Eames knew he was remembering, searching for the right answer to give his friend's partner. "The human body does not intimidate me, Wheeler. I knew...he was bleeding, badly. If the bleeding wasn't controlled, he wasn't going to make it to the ambulance, much less the hospital. So I controlled the bleeding the best way I knew how. I got him to the ER. It was the best I could do."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said, pressing her cheek against his.

Eames noticed the light flush that colored his face and she smiled at his modesty. Wheeler sat back and watched him get to his feet. She touched his hand. "You've become friends with him, haven't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, I have."

"He could use more friends like you."

Eames had gotten up and gone to the water cooler, returning with a cup of water. "Here, Bobby. You look like you could use this."

He smiled, but it was a brief smile. "Thanks," he said.

She was surprised that he chose to sit beside Wheeler and she lowered herself into the empty chair at his other side. She would have expected him to isolate himself, but he didn't. She touched his hand, her eyes glowing warm encouragement that he was reaching out to Wheeler. Seeking comfort and knowing she could find it with him, she rested her head against his shoulder. He closed his hand around hers and stretched out his legs in front of him, leaning his head and shoulders back against the wall behind him. He looked around the room. There were still too many cops lingering about, and there were enough rumors about him and his partner. He glared down any brave enough to let his eyes linger on him and Eames, and they left him alone.

* * *

Ross walked down the hall, away from the surgical suites where Logan was still fighting for his life. No one had seen Goren for a while and that couldn't be a good thing. He wasn't sure what to think about his missing detective. Every time he tried to second guess him, he was wrong. He was finding out that his best strategy was to just let the engimatic genius alone. He would either do his job or hang himself, and so far, he was doing his job and doing it excellently. He had to admit, Goren impressed him. 

Eames was smart and straight-forward, a cop's cop, from a family of cops. Goren was just the opposite. He was a loner who set out down a path few could follow, a maverick who marched to the beat of his own drummer. And yet Eames was able to follow him and hear the irregular rhythm of the beat his drummer generated. In a million years, Ross would never have predicted this partnership would have worked, but it did, and it worked well. He was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He couldn't explain why Goren and Eames were so compatible; he simply accepted that they were.

As for Logan and Wheeler, they were still feeling each other out, learning to work together and accept each other's methods. Megan, he knew, would be the one doing the learning, but he hoped that Logan was open-minded enough to learn from her as well. He hoped she would be able to mitigate his anger and instability, while he wanted Logan to draw her out and help her realize her potential. They could be good for one another, if they gave each other a chance. So far it was working out.

Ross had been wondering about Goren and Logan, sensing a camaraderie between his two troublemakers that made him nervous. They were both loners, but they each walked a different path and listened to a different marching band. Wheeler did not yet have a handle on Logan, but she was getting there. He doubted she would ever blend with Logan the way Eames blended with Goren, but Megan liked her partner, and Logan watched out for her, which Ross liked.

Entering the waiting room, he stopped in his tracks. He was surprised to find Goren there, sitting between the two detectives he'd left forty minutes ago. Although he was not surprised to see Eames leaning against his shoulder, he was surprised to see Wheeler leaning against him on the other side. As he approached, he noticed that Eames held tight to her partner's hand, but he ignored that. He shifted his focus to Goren. His hair was still damp with sweat and he looked pale to Ross, but he dismissed it as a by-product of the night's events. Getting shot at would shake up any cop, even Goren, he decided.

The two women sat up as he neared them but Eames, he noted, remained in contact with Goren. That was one thing he had noticed about these two long-time partners. When things were not right, they sought out each other. His eyes came to rest on Goren. "Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's a routine question I always ask my officers when they've been through a hail of bullets, Goren."

"I'm okay," he muttered.

Ross shifted his eyes to Eames, who was looking at her partner. "Eames? Something wrong?"

There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something just wasn't quite right, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe it was simply the fact that Logan was injured and they were all worried. She shook her head. "Did you find out anything about Mike?"

"He's in surgery and holding his own. That's all they've got right now. The bullet hit him in the back, came out here--" He pointed to a spot on his abdomen near the lower limit of his liver."--and did a lot of damage as it went. One thing they did say, Goren, was that what you did out there definitely saved his life."

"Is...is he going to be all right?" Wheeler asked tentatively.

"That they couldn't tell me. They want to get him through surgery first. So all we can do now is wait."

And so they waited...


	3. Waiting Room Dispute

Eames shifted uncomfortably and began to roll onto thin air. Something stopped her and the first thing her sleep-blurred mind thought was that this was the most uncomfortable bed she'd ever slept on. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and all she saw was a pale blue shirt tucked into dark brown pants. She bolted into a sitting position and began to topple off the chairs she had been sleeping on. A strong arm steadied her and she looked into the warmth of her partner's dark eyes. Perusing the room as she set her feet on the floor, she gradually recalled the horrifying events of a few hours earlier. Wearily, she rubbed her face. Goren got up from his seat and crossed the room to the coffee pot. As was her habit, she watched him, and her mind filled with alarm. His usual easy gait seemed unsteady to her eyes, even if he himself did not appear so. Again her eyes wandered the room, still half-filled with cops. Like her, some had succumbed to exhaustion and stretched out on the uncomfortable chairs to catch a few uneasy winks of sleep. Some paced, others talked in quiet tones. Jackets had been shed in the warmth of the room and lay draped over chairs; ties were loosened or off, collars unbuttoned. Bobby's tie lay draped around her neck because she had slid it from his collar earlier. But he still wore his jacket, and that struck her as odd.

He returned to her and handed her a cup of coffee. She gave him a grateful smile and he eased back into the chair beside her. "Why don't you take off your jacket?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"I'm feeling a little cold," he replied.

She touched his hand, which did feel cool to her touch. But his face was still moist with sweat. She reached out and touched his cheek briefly. The same tremor she'd felt at the scene was still present in his body. "Are you sure you feel all right?"

"I told you I did."

"You don't look right, Bobby."

"I feel okay." He sought to change the subject. "Ross took Wheeler down to the operating suite to check on Logan. We still haven't had any word."

"Do you have any idea who has medical authority to make decisions for him?"

Goren shook his head. "Sorry, Eames. That topic never came up."

"Don't be an ass."

"Sorry. I have no idea. I guess it'll fall to Ross."

"Do you trust him to make those decisions?"

"For me? No. You're the only one I trust. For Mike? That's none of my concern."

"He's your friend. Don't you care..."

He stared at her and she trailed off. "Don't I care about him?" he asked softly. "How can you ask that? Eames, I had my hand in the guy's gut for two hours. I don't do that shit for kicks."

Her hand found his cheek again and he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "You're right. I know better."

He opened his eyes and it seemed to her that it was an effort for him to do that. "I'm just tired," he assured her. "It's been a really long night, and I didn't sleep too well last night. That's all it is."

Reaching out, she unbuttoned the second button on his shirt, and he drew in his breath when her fingers brushed over his skin. Then she sat back, picked up the coffee he'd brought her and took a drink. He watched her for a moment, his thoughts racing, before he turned away and rested his head back against the wall.

* * *

He wasn't sure, but he must have dozed off. He had not lied to his partner when he told her he hadn't slept well the night before. And it had been a long day and an even longer night. The dull ache in his back didn't help matters much, making him irritable and seeming to contribute to his exhaustion. He shifted his position with a quiet groan, and a voice at his side softly asked, "Feeling any better?" 

"Not really." Actually, he felt worse, but he ignored that.

"Are you sure you're just tired?"

He nodded. "I'm sure." He lightly tapped her knee. "I'll be right back."

She watched him leave the room and settled back with a concerned frown. His gait seemed a little...off to her. She got up and walked over to the fish tank, seeking to escape for just a few moments. "Hey, Al!"

She turned at the familiar voice, a bright smile on her face. "Kevin!"

She let the uniformed officer gather her into a big bear hug and kiss her cheek. He looked around the room with concern. "Where's Bobby?"

"I think he went to the rest room. He'll be right back."

"So what are you doing here?"

"One of our guys got taken down by that sniper. We're waiting to hear about him."

"Sorry to hear about that. My precinct is involved in the investigation. We found the shooter's nest...less than 100 yards from the crime scene. We're working with your crime scene guys to put it all together, but it looks like a set-up. Somebody out there really doesn't like cops."

"Oh, that narrows it down. Good job, Kevin."

He laughed. "That's my girl."

* * *

Goren looked at his face in the mirror in the men's room. Geez...no wonder Eames was concerned. He looked like shit. He splashed his face with cold water, running his hands through his sweaty hair. Drying his face, he sighed, twisting his sore back from left to right then back again without relief. _Damn_. 

He headed back to the waiting room. "Hey, Goren..."

He looked toward the man who called his name. Gillespie...That was the guy's name...from the 05. "What?" he asked, disinterested.

"Someone's making a move on your girl."

He was genuinely confused. "My what?"

Gillespie nodded his head in the direction of the fish tank. Goren followed the gesture and saw Eames talking to a tall blond officer in uniform. He looked back at Gillespie. He was in no mood to deal with this. "Fuck off, Gillespie," he snapped.

Turning, he headed back toward his chair, ignoring the looks and mutterings from the officers around the room, not particularly caring what they were discussing. He had no claim to Eames. She could talk to anyone she wanted to. Actually, she could do anything she wanted with whoever she chose. She was his partner and his friend, nothing more, no matter what the rumors said.

A firm hand grabbed him and spun him around, knocking his left shoulder into a pillar. "Hey, asshole," Gillespie snarled at him. "Nobody talks to me that way."

A sharp pain shot up the right side of Goren's back but he just glared at Gillespie. "Then keep your damn mouth shut," he growled. "Eames can talk to anyone she wants to. If you're upset that she hasn't chosen to talk to you, don't take it out on me."

Gillespie raised his hands. "Hey, she's your girlfriend..."

"She's my partner. Last time I checked, that didn't include a roll in the hay...unless you define partner differently than I do."

He flicked his eyes toward Gillespie's partner, making his inference crystal clear. He wasn't expecting a right hook, and when his body hit the water cooler, both went crashing to the floor. He rolled away from the fractured water bottle as it glugged its contents onto the floor and struggled to his feet. Gillespie glared at him. "Prefer losers like Logan then?" he snarled.

Something hit Goren and knocked him against the wall, pressing against him to keep him there. His right arm was drawn against his back, pressing into the area that was causing him the most pain. He groaned and his knees buckled. The pressure was gone as he slid to the floor.

* * *

Eames jumped to her feet and went after Gillespie. She hit him square in the chest with both hands and shoved hard. "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"I was joking," he yelled back defensively. "He started it."

She shoved him again. The back of his legs hit a bank of chairs and the momentum of her shove sent him toppling over them. Kevin grabbed her arms. "No, Al. Let it go."

"Let it go? He assaulted my partner!"

Kevin brought his mouth down to her ear. "Then go take care of your partner. I've got this."

She pulled away from him, glaring at Gillespie. "For the record, asshole, Mike Logan is twice the man you are. I'd rather have him as a partner than ten of you."

"Ready to give up Goren then?" he snapped back.

"Not in this lifetime," she retorted, walking away.

Gillespie's partner knelt at his side, hand clamped firmly on his shoulder. "It's cool," he told Kevin. "I've got him."

"You better hold him tight. He comes back over here, I'll fucking shoot him."

He headed back to where Eames knelt beside her prostrate partner.

* * *

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. His back was on fire. He blinked twice and took a deep breath, groaning again. Then Eames came into his line of vision. "Lay still," she encouraged. 

He shook his head as he rolled onto his side, fighting the pain in his back. "Damn," he grunted.

"Bobby..."

"It's okay," he assured her as he struggled to his feet. She helped him with Kevin grabbing his arm on the other side. They guided him to a chair. "Did you get the name of the truck that hit me?" he muttered.

She looked guilty. "That would have been me."

He stared at her. "You?"

"I didn't want you to hit him."

"So you took me out?"

"I didn't mean to do that. Sorry."

"Damn, Eames."

Kevin leaned toward him. "Now you know why none of us ever chose to mess with her. She'll hurt you."

Goren looked at him, eyes filled with recognition. "Hey, Kevin," he said.

Kevin grinned. "How ya doin', Bobby?"

"I'm wet and sore," he complained. Then he saw Ross come charging into the room. "And in trouble," he added.

* * *

Danny Ross stood at the window overlooking the operating room where Logan was. Beside him, Wheeler trembled. He slid his arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay, Megan?" 

She nodded. "I want _him_ to be okay," she said softly.

"Give him the benefit of the doubt."

She looked up at him. "Did anyone tell you what Goren did?"

He shook his head, almost afraid to find out. He decided long ago it wasn't worth it to try guessing what Goren did. "All I heard was that his first aid procedures saved Logan's life. I didn't ask for details."

She nodded. "He never hesitated. Everyone else was diving for cover, and he went right to Mike's side, as soon as he saw him down. He looked him over...and he...knew what had to be done. And he did it."

"Megan, are you sure he didn't get hit?"

"He said he didn't."

"I know what he said. What did you see?"

"If he got hit, I didn't see it."

Their conversation was interrupted by a voice from down the hall. "Captain Ross?"

He looked at the out-of-breath officer who approached him. "What?"

"There's a fight in the waiting room, Captain. I think your officers are involved."

"Dammit!" He touched Wheeler's shoulder. "Stay here, Megan. I'll be back."

She watched him run down the hall with the officer and wondered just what was going on. But she turned her attention back to the surgical suite and trusted Ross to deal with everything else.

Ross entered the room, breathing heavily. He took in everything in a quick scan...the broken water cooler, the officer on the floor behind a bank of seats being forced to stay put by another officer, his own detectives sitting with a uniformed officer across the room, assorted other cops lingering about and pointedly avoiding the two combatants. He didn't have to ask who was involved. He approached Goren and Eames and locked eyes with Goren. "What the hell did you do?"

Goren frowned. "I got punched," he snapped.

Ross' eyes shifted to the uniformed officer to Goren's right. He noted the man's nametag. _Eames_. "Did you see what went down, Sergeant?"

"Yes, Captain. He's right. He never laid a hand on the guy."

"So why's he on the floor?"

"That would have been me," Eames repeated, saving her brother and her partner the effort of implicating her.

Ross looked from one partner to the other. "Put it in writing," he groaned. "I have a bigger headache at the moment."

He turned to leave. "Captain?" Eames called him back. "Mike?"

"He'd just coded on the table and they got him back when they called me away. So if you two are done monkeying around, I'll head back." He looked again from one to the other. "Just...behave."

He headed out of the room.


	4. It's Just A Pulled Muscle

Danny Ross was exhausted. It was almost dawn when the surgical team finally finished with Logan and sent him to the intensive care unit in critical condition. He sent Wheeler home with a uniformed officer and went to find his crack team of troublemakers. Goren might be unpredictable, but his little partner was a firecracker all on her own. _Damn_. Goren might intimidate people, but it was Eames they had to watch for. That made him smile.

He wasn't surprised to find them in a far corner of the now near-empty waiting room. Goren was leaning against the corner, and Eames was laying against him. Both were sleeping. He crossed the room and eased himself onto the chair beside Eames, lightly touching her shoulder. "Eames."

Her eyes fluttered and she took a deep breath, pulling her head away from her partner's arm. It was the most comfortable she'd been all damn night. What the hell was wrong now? She looked around, finally settling her eyes on the captain. She eased herself into a full upright position, and her movement roused her partner. "What's wrong?" he muttered.

"Logan's out of surgery," Ross answered.

They both looked at him. "How is he?" Eames asked.

"Not good. He's critical, but holding his own. They're not making any predictions. If he makes it over the next forty-eight hours, then they'll be willing to talk. They have him in isolation right now, so go home. Both of you. Try to get some rest."

He rose from his chair and watched as Eames also got easily to her feet. Goren stayed put for a moment, and Ross looked at him more closely. It wasn't the lighting. The man was pale, and he didn't look right. "On second thought, Goren, I want you to go to the ER and get looked at."

"What for? There's nothing wrong with me a few hours of sleep won't cure."

"Humor me, all right? Eames, make sure he gets seen."

"Captain..." he began.

"It's not an option, detective." He looked at Eames. "Call me when he's done with the doctor."

They watched Ross leave the room and Eames turned toward her partner, who had not made any attempt to rise from his chair. "You heard the man," she said.

"Don't gloat," he grumbled, slowly hoisting himself from the chair with a soft grunt as the pain in his flank flared.

"You _are_ in pain," Eames pointed out.

"I exacerbated a pulled muscle when someone threw me into the wall," he muttered. "That's all it is. They're going to tell me to put some heat on it and rest."

"Okay, Dr. Goren. Let's get a colleague to concur and then we'll take you home."

He gave her a dirty look as he followed her from the waiting room.

* * *

As they approached the nurses' station a young woman looked up from a file and smiled. "Hello, Detective Goren." 

He nodded. "Hi, Dr. Flynn. This is my partner, Alex Eames." He looked at Eames. "Dr. Flynn took care of Logan when we got here last night."

Flynn smiled at Eames. "Nice to meet you. What can I do for you?"

Before Goren could complain some more, Eames said, "Our captain insisted I bring Bobby down to get looked at. We both agree something doesn't seem quite right with him, whether he'll admit it or not."

"I pulled a muscle, that's all. It's not worth an emergency room visit. I'm fine."

"You weren't hit last night?"

"I think I'd know if I was shot," he pointed out reasonably. "My back is sore and I'm tired. It's nothing more than that."

Flynn nodded. "Well, let me just give you a quick once over and then everyone will get off your back, so to speak."

His mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile. "Will that satisfy you, Eames?"

"Yes. And it'll keep the captain happy."

As they followed the doctor to the exam room, he leaned toward his partner's ear. "Maybe if you hadn't steamrolled me..."

Without missing a beat, she shot him a disarming smile. "Maybe if you hadn't decided to get into a fistfight over me."

She stepped away from him as she entered the exam room after Flynn. With a shake of his head, he followed. Even after all this time, she could still knock him off kilter with a look or a statement, sometimes both. _Dammit..._

"Sit down, detective," the doctor said as she washed her hands. "How is Detective Logan?"

"He was in surgery all night," Eames informed her. "They moved him to intensive care a little while ago."

"His injuries were critical. He was lucky to get here alive." She turned to Goren and frowned, reaching out to turn his head in the light. "Did you have this bruise on your temple last night?"

"Probably not. There was a minor disagreement in the waiting room and I got tackled by a water cooler."

Flynn raised her eyes. "I didn't know the hospital water coolers had taken up attacking people."

He smiled. "You learn something new every day."

Sensing that was all she was going to get from him, she examined the bruise as he looked past her at his partner. She gave him a guilty smile of regret. His eyes held the promise he would let her make it up to him. She tipped her head and smirked which he responded to with a smile. By the time the silent conversation ended, the doctor was done. "It looks like a simple bruise. Put some ice on it when you get home. Now slip off your jacket and shirt and let's get a look at your back."

He slid his jacket off his shoulders with a wince and Flynn handed it to Eames. As she walked around the stretcher while he unbuttoned his shirt, she froze, a look of concern clouding her freckled face. "What is it?" Eames asked, rising from her chair to join her. "Oh, God, Bobby..."

"What?"

"Your shirt's soaked with blood."

"What? Where?"

"The entire lower half of it."

"You're joking."

"You know better."

"Damn. This was a new shirt."

She reached up as he finished with his buttons and slid the shirt off his shoulders. Flynn shook her head. "I need to clean the blood from your back. I can't see anything." She walked to the sink and filled a plastic basin with warm soapy water. Grabbing a washcloth, she returned to the stretcher and gently washed the blood from his skin. "Right here," she murmured softly to Eames, pointing to a small wound just below his ribcage on the right.

"What is it?" he asked inpatiently.

"An entry wound."

"No way."

"I'm afraid so, but it's not a high velocity wound, like the others we saw. There's no exit wound." She rested the flat of her hand on his back. "You're going to x-ray."

He huffed in annoyance but Eames cut off his protest. "You have a bullet in your back, Bobby. You can't leave it there."

"Suppose I refuse?"

"Then I'll have the doctor sedate you and give her my consent."

He looked over his shoulder at Flynn. "Can she do that?"

"Does she have power of consent for you?"

"Yes."

"Then she can."

"Remind me to take care of that, Eames."

"Quit being difficult. Go ahead and order the x-rays, Dr. Flynn."

Flynn started toward the door, then turned with a smile. "I like her."

Annoyed, Goren said, "Unfortunately, so do I."

Eames slapped the back of his head. "Watch it, you. I'm your ride home." She let her fingers caress his warm skin and softly coaxed him to lay down on his side. "You may as well rest."

He let his eyes peruse her face. "What about you?"

"This won't be the first time you've cost me sleep, partner. I'll be fine."

"I'm not staying."

"Who said you'd have to?"

"I just thought I'd throw that out there."

"Thanks, but we'll see what the doctor says."

She watched the annoyance flicker across his face until a new thought chased it away. "Did you think to call Carolyn?"

"Yes. She's out of town, and she'll be here sometime before noon. First time she's left town in over a year, and he goes and gets himself shot."

"It's not her fault."

She smiled. "She knows that." Impulsively, she fingered the curls at his forehead. "Why don't you get some rest?"

He shook his head, disturbed at how much he was enjoying her touch but making no move to stop her. "I think I'll keep you company."

"That's not necessary."

"I know." He lost his train of thought in her eyes, but recovered before either of them fully realized what had happened. "S-so how's your brother?"

* * *

Forty-five minutes after he returned from x-ray, Flynn came back in with the films. She put them up on a light box and flipped it on. Pointing to a small bright spot on the first film she said, "This is a bullet fragment. Apparently, wherever it hit, the bullet fragmented and you were hit with a low velocity ricochet. There was enough energy to get it lodged in your back muscles, but not enough to send it into your body to do any damage. The entrance wound bled all night long, but not enough to cause any real problems. Your body objected to this violation, which is why you've felt so bad all night. Any pain?" 

"Not really. It was sore...until I got into it with the water cooler." His eyes shifted toward Eames, then back to the doctor. "It's been a little more than sore since then, but not intolerable...just annoying."

She walked to the stretcher and pressed firmly around the wound. He groaned and his muscles tensed in protest. "Relax."

"I'm trying."

She rested a hand on his hip and studied the x-rays. "The bullet isn't deep, but I can't feel it if you keep tensing." She was quiet for a moment. "Here's what we're going to do. I'll give you something to help you relax and I'll take out the fragment. A couple of stitches, a prescription or two and you'll be good to go. Do you have a ride home?"

"Eames will take me home."

"Then we have a plan."

"Suppose you leave it there?"

"First of all, the human body does not particularly like foreign bodies, and ones made of lead are a major no-no. Second, if it works its way out of that muscle and into your lung or your abdominal cavity, you _will_ end up as an inpatient. So you can endure a little discomfort now or a lot later."

Eames leaned closer to his ear. "You have once chance to make the right decision," she said.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll make it for you, that's what."

He studied her, but gave a heavy sigh of resignation. "Fine, doctor. Do what you have to."

The doctor nodded. "Good. I'll send one of the nurses in with the medicine, and I'll be back in about twenty minutes."

Once she was gone, he looked at Eames. "Happy?"

"Not really. I'd rather you hadn't gotten shot." She paused for a moment. "Did I really hurt you?"

"I doubt it. I just felt like giving you a hard time."

"But you said the pain got worse."

"It did, but I'd say Gillespie was more responsible for that than you were."

They were interrupted by a nurse, who came in with an injection, gave it to him while making small talk, and then left. Eames smiled at him. "Well, she made that seem perfectly natural and ordinary."

"That's her job."

She was quiet for a moment before she said, "I'm sorry, Bobby."

He frowned. "For what?"

"For not taking it more seriously when I thought something was wrong. I should have insisted you get looked at a lot sooner and not waited for Ross to do it."

"I told you nothing was wrong, and I didn't think anything was. That isn't your fault." He tipped his head toward her. "It's not serious."

"It could have been."

"And I could have been a trash collector, but I'm not. It is what it is, not what it might have been. So we let the good doctor take out the fragment, put in a few stitches and then we go home."

"Your place or mine?" she asked, teasing.

"Eames, is that a proposition?" he teased back.

She had not expected that. She'd fully expected embarrassment, which she found endearing. He rarely returned this kind of teasing, setting clear boundaries that he had no intention of crossing. She had no idea what to make of his comment and became annoyed when she felt the flush of embarrassment color her own cheeks. She didn't miss the confusion in his eyes as he started to stammer an apology, and she cut him off. The last thing she wanted from him right now was an apology. "Just...shhh. Don't say any more, okay? I'll take you home and make sure you're settled, and then I'll head home."

He watched her turn away, sensing her embarrassment and wondering cluelessly what caused it. Something had just changed and for the life of him he had no idea what.


	5. Minor Procedure

Her voice, in combination with the medicine he'd been given, lulled him toward sleep. He closed his hand over hers and concentrated on the cadence of her softly spoken words, but he didn't follow a thing she said. When her fingers lightly ran across his forehead and along his temple, he was done.

Flynn came into the room and smiled at Eames. "How is he?"

"He's sleeping. He is going to be all right, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes. He'll be fine. This is minor." She gently probed around the entry wound, glancing at the x-rays from time to time. She frowned. "Damn. The bullet shifted."

"What does that mean?"

"Come over here." She indicated the entrance wound and pointed upward, toward his ribcage. "The fragment entered at this angle and hit his rib. There is probably some damage to the rib, but nothing substantial. It will heal quickly, though it might be uncomfortable for awhile. According to the x-rays, the bullet was here. But I can feel it over here." She sighed. "I'll be right back, detective."

"Alex. Call me Alex."

Flynn smiled. "Jennifer," she replied. "I'll be right back."

Eames returned to her chair and slipped her hand back into his. Leaning forward, she laid a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. He shifted his head and softly groaned, but didn't waken. Flynn returned to the room and pulled up a chair beside Eames. "This is how it is, Alex. I can remove the fragment; that's not an issue. The ER is very quiet right now, but the operating rooms are still busy dealing with the less critical injuries from last night. If we were to wait for a surgeon, I would have to admit him. Since the ER is quiet and I am at the end of my shift, I can go ahead and remove it, then send him home. The decision is yours since he's not in any condition to make it at the moment."

"You can do this safely, without any complications?"

"Yes. I did a rotation as a surgical resident before I decided I preferred emergency medicine."

"I trust you. Go ahead and do what you need to do."

Flynn smiled. "All right, then."

"Jennifer, what would have happened if that fragment hadn't hit his rib?"

"Then he would have been in much more trouble because it would have entered his lung." She pulled a stainless steel tray closer to the bed and said, "Let me get what I need and I'll get started."

When she returned, she laid a package wrapped in blue on the tray and walked to the sink to wash her hands. Eames watched him sleep and reflected on their partnership and the slow turn their friendship seemed to be taking. They'd encountered some stormy weather over the last nine months, but they'd weathered the storm. Granted they took a beating, but now they were no worse for the wear. She had been afraid that when his mother died, the resulting emotional turmoil would tear them apart, the way her illness nearly did. She could not have been more wrong, thank God. Instead of tearing them apart, it had drawn them closer and served to cement their bond to each other. He had gone through a hard time, but he had finally turned to her and she got him through it. They were closer now than they had ever been, gradually drawing toward a more intimate involvement. But she was going at his pace. There were many times she would have happily given in to the intensity of emotion they generated, but he held back. He wasn't ready. So she waited. She stroked his cheek tenderly. He could be difficult and obstinate, and he was definitely...unique, but there was no denying the place he'd come to take in her heart.

Flynn turned from the sink, lifting a sterile towel from the tray and drying her hands. She watched Eames smooth the damp hair back from his forehead; she knew that look, those gestures. "He means a lot to you."

Eames nodded, swallowing the knot that had suddenly formed in her throat. It was a moment before she found herself able to talk again. "We've been partners for a long time...partners and friends. This was the end of his first full week back to work after losing his mother. What a way to end it."

"Does he know the officer he saved?"

"Yes. We work in the same squad, and they're friends."

As she spoke, Flynn laid a series of sterile drapes around the area where she needed to work. "It took a lot of courage for him to do what he did. I understand the shooting had not stopped when he went to help Detective Logan."

"It hadn't. But Bobby never considers his own safety first. Never. He drives me up a wall sometimes." Her thoughts turned toward Logan. "Mike Logan would be dead if Bobby were less of a man."

"That's very true. Not many people would have the stomach for what he did."

"I think Bobby said it best when he told Mike's partner that the human body does not intimidate him. I can vouch for that. You should see him work a crime scene. It's fascinating and disturbing all at the same time."

Flynn smiled and retrieved a vial from a locked cabinet over the sink. "Is it safe to assume you are never bored?"

Eames laughed, a full, genuine laugh. "With Bobby around? Never."

At her hip, her phone rang, and he stirred. She silenced the ringer. "That would be the captain. I'd better give him a call."

She was surprised when she stood up and his hand tightened around hers. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on her. "Alex..." he said quietly.

She leaned down to kiss his temple. "I'll be right back. If I don't call Ross, he's going to show up." He released her hand and she laughed quietly. "Keep the doctor entertained. I promise I'll be right back."

Flynn rested a cool hand on his side as Eames left. She said, "Hold still, detective. I'm getting ready to start here."

"Start what?" he muttered, struggling to dispel the fog from his brain.

"Going in after this bullet fragment." She gently probed around his injury again and he groaned. "Sore?"

"It feels...like someone's jabbing a hot poker into my side."

"I promise I'm not doing that, but you will feel a small prick and some burning when I inject the local. Try to focus on something else."

His mind was taking off down a dozen different paths, and he wasn't sure which track the doctor's conversation was on. He had no control over where his mind chose to focus, and at the moment it wasn't focusing on anything he could readily identify. The room was spinning in two different directions, which fascinated him. He softly murmured his partner's name and his eyes slowly slid closed.

* * *

Eames dialed the phone at the nurse's station and waited for Ross to answer. _Ross_. 

"This is Eames. You called?"

_How's your partner?_

"He'll be fine. He caught a fragment in the back and the doctor's removing it now."

_So he _was_ hit..._

"Yes, sir. But it's minor."

_And you can handle him?_

"Have you ever known I time I couldn't?"

_Logan's stable for the time being and I'm going home for a few hours. Call me if something unexpected happens, but take Goren home and I'll see you both on Thursday._

"You really expect me to be able to convince him to stay home for two days?"

_You said you could handle him._

"Don't throw my words back at me, captain. I'll do what I can."

_I'm sure you can find a way to keep him home. Good night, detective._

She puzzled at his words as she hung up the phone. Now what could he have meant by that? Frowning, she headed back to Goren's side. She looked over at what Flynn was doing, but just for a moment. The blood on the doctor's gloves unsettled her, not because it was blood, but because it was _his_ blood. Flynn smiled at her as she sat down. "He was asking for you."

"He didn't remember I went to make a phone call?"

"I'm not sure he remembers his name right now. I gave him a powerful sedative, but it's short-acting and he's fighting it. He'll probably start coming out of it before I'm done here."

"He hates anything that disrupts the clarity of his mind. If he's anything, Bobby is a thinker."

"That's a good thing. Too many people never think. That keeps me busy."

"Sometimes he thinks too much. That keeps _me_ busy."

She could see the smile in the doctor's eyes above the mask that covered the lower part of her face. She changed her position to a more comfortable one and lightly stroked his hand with her thumb. She rested her chin on their clasped hands and watched him sleep.

* * *

He began shifting uncomfortably against the pain as his mind struggled against the cotton that muffled it. He groaned and stirred. A gentle hand caressed his face and he recognized his partner's voice. "Hold still," she said quietly. "The doctor's almost done."

He frowned, confused. He searched his memory, recalling the shooting and the long wait through the night. Everything else was more than a little fuzzy. "Done? Done with what? How's Mike?"

He started to push himself up, but Eames pressed him back onto his side. "Settle down. You took a fragment and Dr. Flynn just removed it. She's closing everything up now."

"It hurts," he complained.

"It will hurt," the doctor answered. "The bullet shifted and it took a little longer than I first thought. I had to dig around for it. You got lucky this time. If it had been any more involved or if the bullet had shifted in a different direction, you'd have had to head to surgery. Other than the pain, how are you feeling?"

"I don't know. It's hard to get past that."

"Let me finish closing this incision and I can give you something to take care of the pain."

He groaned softly and held onto Eames' hand more firmly. He recently found himself reaching out for her when things in his life were unsettled or beginning to spin beyond his control. Since losing his mother, he'd been struck by the realization that Eames was all he had. His loss had opened a window to his heart that had once been closed, and inside his heart, he found her. He had set forth down a path he'd once sworn he would never travel, and he had let himself fall in love with his partner, or rather, he let himself realize that he had already done that somewhere along the way. He let his thumb lightly stroke her hand and settled his gaze on hers. He'd noticed lately how easy it had become for him to lose himself in her eyes, and he let himself get lost now. A soft smiled touched his lips and he settled his mind away from the pain.

Flynn noticed when the tension left his muscles. She glanced up and saw Eames once more run a tender caress along the side of his face. With a smile, she finished what she was doing.

* * *

"Are you sure you feel up to this?" Eames asked. "I really should take you home." 

He wasn't feeling up to it. Although most of the sedative had worn off, the painkiller Flynn had given him left him feeling unsteady and fuzzy. But this was something he had to do before he could go home. "Just give me a few minutes, Eames. I...need to do this."

She remained in step beside him as they entered the intensive care unit. A nurse approached them. "May I help you?"

Eames answered, "We want to see Mike Logan."

"I'm afraid Detective Logan isn't allowed any visitors."

"We just finished up in the emergency room after sitting in the waiting room all night," Eames explained. "Mike is a friend and we want to see him before we leave."

Goren tipped his head to the side to catch the nurse's eyes. "Please...just for a minute. We don't have to go into the room. We just want to...uh, need to see him."

The nurse studied him. "Just for a minute...and don't go into the room."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"Room 7, right over there."

Eames gently poked him in the side as they crossed the unit. "Sweet talker."

"Only when I have to be," he answered.

Conversation ceased and all traces of any smile left them both as they stopped outside Logan's room. Goren stepped into the doorway and leaned against it. He was barely aware that Eames held onto his arm, tightening her grip. Absently, he drew her around to stand in front of him, resting a hand on her waist, but all his attention was focused on the injured man in the bed in the center of the small room. The only sounds that registered were the beep of the monitor over the bed, the soft whir of the IV pump on the far side on the bed and the intermittent rasp of the nearby respirator as it breathed for him. His abdomen was dominated by a large white bandage tinged with red where blood had begun to saturate it. Goren stood silently for a long time, his hand gently pulling Eames into closer contact as the nurse who'd let them see him came and went from the room. Finally, he stopped her as she moved past them for the fourth time. "H-he's not doing well, is he?"

"Are you family?"

"Mike has no family. I...I was the one who...got him here."

She studied his face. "Does anyone have authority to make medical decisions for him?"

He nodded. "She's on her way."

Again she studied him. "When she gets here, then I can talk."

"Am I right?"

She looked into sincere dark eyes. She'd heard what he'd done for Logan. She nodded, then forced her eyes away from his and continued out of the room.

He leaned his head down and spoke into Eames' ear. "Let's go home."

She nodded and they left intensive care.


	6. Trying to Get Settled

She drove them to his apartment. Once inside, he settled himself on the couch with a soft groan. The local anesthetic had completely worn off and the pain medicine was beginning to work its way out of his system. His entire side and half his back felt as if it were on fire. Eames eased down beside him. "I'll go get your prescription filled and pick up some groceries. You need more than lunch meat and beer if you're going to heal quickly."

"Is it safe to assume we're not going in to the office today?"

"Very safe. Or tomorrow."

"Eames, we have someone out there shooting cops. If he'll shoot cops, he won't think twice about shooting civilians...and he almost killed Logan. I want him."

"Captain's orders, Bobby. Thursday." She leaned closer, locking gazes with him. "He told me to find a way to keep you home. Don't push it."

With that, she got up from the couch and headed for the door. She looked back at him once she got there, not surprised to see a shell-shocked expression on his face. She smiled. _Direct hit._ "I'll be right back. Try to rest."

The door closed behind her and he continued staring at it. Find a way to keep him home? What the hell did _that_ mean?

* * *

When Eames returned to the apartment, she was not surprised to find him sleeping off the residual effects of the medication he'd been given in the emergency room. She went into the kitchen and began putting the groceries away. Standing in the pantry, she was stretching to put a can of green beans on the top shelf. It was just out of her reach, and she strained to reach just a little higher. She was caught off guard when a hand closed over hers, the other lightly resting on her waist to steady her. He took the can, setting it on the shelf. She didn't turn, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing to her. She pulled her hand down, lowering her heels to the floor. She still did not turn, but instead closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his body almost touching hers. She was more acutely aware of the hand on her hip and she struggled not to turn into his arms, waiting to see what he would do. 

Standing behind her, he was close enough to catch the scent of her, and it triggered a wave of arousal deep inside him. As she withdrew her hand and pulled out of her full body stretch, he hesitated, remaining close behind her and adjusting his position to accomodate the change in hers. He waited a moment longer, disturbingly aware of her closeness, then he stepped away.

She felt him retreat, a familiar wave of disappointment surging through her. _His_ pace, she reminded herself yet again, letting him go. She returned to the counter, pulling out two more cans of green beans which she handed to him. She removed a half gallon of milk, a pound of butter and a pint of ice cream and put them away. Leaving the refrigerator door open, she pulled two packages of meat from the bag and set them on the center shelf. He watched her over the door, waiting for her to close it. She did, and then returned to the two grocery bags. Handing him two more cans, she set the empty bag on the floor. From the other bag, she removed a can of coffee, which she set in the cupboard above the coffee maker. Closing the door, she turned away from the counter...and he was standing right there. She was uncertain, unwilling to take a step he was not ready to take. So she waited.

He hesitated when she turned toward him after closing the cupboard door. With both bags now empty, he expected her to move past him into the other room, but she didn't. He was caught off guard by her hesitation, but he had no idea what she wanted from him, if anything.

Sensing he was going to just stand there, she shifted away from him and grabbed a white bag from the back of the counter. Pulling two prescription bottles from the bag, she dumped one pill from each bottle into her hand before setting the bottles on the refrigerator, crumpling the bag and tossing it into the trash. "There are your prescriptions."

She sighed, and it seemed to him there was a hidden meaning to the sound. She seemed almost sad. When she reached her hand toward him, he extended his and she dropped the medicine into his hand, brushing his palm with her fingers. He had no clue of it was intentional or not, but he enjoyed the contact. She started past him toward the living room. As intuitive as he was, he found himself unable to interpret her tone as she said, "I guess...I'll head home now, if you don't need anything else."

"N-no. I can't think of anything...unless..." He paused, not sure how to ask her to stay and feeling uncomfortable with his desire to have her close by.

"Unless...what?"

"Y-you don't have to go. I mean, you're welcome to stay here. You know you are."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, trying not to sound like she was challenging him and hoping he would ask her to stay.

He studied her for a moment. What _did_ he want? "I-I'd like you...to stay."

"Then I will," she said softly.

She continued into the living room, and he followed her with his eyes, assessing her movements with a practiced eye that was accustomed to watching her move. "You're tired," he observed. "You can sleep in the bed."

"It's your bed, Bobby. I'm fine with the couch."

"Go on, Eames. Please. I've spent a lot of hours asleep on the couch. I'll be fine. I want you to take the bed."

She studied him as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen. It was an attractive offer. More than once she'd fallen asleep on his couch, only to waken alone in his big, comfortable bed. She could imagine how much more comfortable it would be with him to snuggle into, and she couldn't help wondering if she would ever find out for certain. She shifted her thoughts away from his bed. "Do you want something to eat?"

He shook his head. "I'm not hungry. Are you?"

"Not really." She hesitated. "How about we get a few hours of sleep and then I'll fix us something."

A gentle smile softened his features. "Sounds good to me."

Her heart melted at that smile. On impulse, she returned to him and leaned up to gently kiss his cheek, lingering briefly before pressing her own cheek against his and whispering into his ear. "Good night, Bobby."

Shaken by the gesture, he walked across the room to watch her until she turned into the bedroom. He waited for her to close the door, but she didn't, and he wondered at that, finding himself fighting down a desire to join her. Surprised by how much of a struggle it was, he forced himself to the couch, carefully sitting down. Now he wasn't tired. _Damn._

Picking up the remote, he turned on the television and began channel surfing.

* * *

He had just dozed off two hours later when his phone woke him. He fumbled for it, flipping it open and muttering, "Yeah...uh, I mean...Goren...hell..." 

"Nice, Bobby," came a familiar voice that made him smile.

"Hi, Carolyn."

"Where's Alex? She's not answering."

"She's sleeping. It was a helluva long night and she can be a sound sleeper."

"Now how would you know that?"

He grinned at her teasing, knowing she was putting off the question whose answer she feared. He'd dated her briefly the year before, but the profiler in each of them clearly read what neither of them was able to see in themselves. He'd pushed her toward a closer relationship with Logan, particularly after she left Major Case, and she still pressed him toward Eames, although she'd backed off some since his mother's death. In any event, he still cared for her deeply. "I've had plenty of opportunity to wake her from a sound sleep when we've had a case. Where are you?"

"New Jersey. I'll be there in about an hour." She hesitated for a moment. "How's Mike?"

"Holding his own. He's in intensive care."

"I...owe you one, Bobby."

"What for?"

"I just talked to Ross. He told me what you did."

"He's my friend, Carolyn. I couldn't stand by and let him die; I did what I had to do."

"Where are you?"

"At home."

"Is Alex there?"

She knew that in light of the difficult events that had transpired the night before, they would lean on each other, as they always did. "Yes," he answered. "Sh-she's in the bedroom."

"And you are..."

"On the couch."

"The couch? Why, Bobby?"

Reluctant to enter into that discussion again, he gave her a vague answer and changed the subject. "I fell asleep out here. How was Washington?"

She let him retreat. "The same as it was last year when I was there."

"And your interview?"

"It went well, but I don't think I'm going to take the job."

"Why not?"

"I like New York, and damn if I don't miss you guys and Alex when I'm gone."

He laughed softly, knowing she and Eames had become good friends. "You've been gone three days."

"Yeah, well, you boneheads grow on a girl."

"That's what Eames says, too."

"And look what happens when I leave."

"What can I say," he replied softly.

She was quiet for a moment. "Are they saying anything about his prognosis?"

"Not that I've heard. But they won't talk to us. You have medical authority for him; they'll talk to you."

She sighed. "Well, I'll be there soon and we'll find out what's going on. I'm sorry I woke you, Bobby."

"It's not a big deal."

She was silent again. She knew how lightly he slept, and how difficult sleep was for him. But she also knew that she could depend on him for support, over anyone else, except maybe Logan. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you meet me at the hospital?"

He understood. She loved Logan and it was going to be hard for her to see him like this. She would need support. "Sure," he said softly. "An hour?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

"Thanks, Bobby."

He knew better than to even think about driving, so he headed down the hall to wake Eames. She wouldn't mind. But once he got to the doorway, he stopped. For a long minute he stood there watching her sleep. She was comfortable, sleeping a deep, peaceful sleep. He struggled with himself, not wanting to wake her, but weighing it against what would happen if she woke and he was gone. Making up his mind, he walked to her bedside and eased himself down onto the bed's edge. Resting a gentle hand on her abdomen, just below her ribs, he called her name several times, until she finally opened her eyes to look at him. "This better be good, Goren," she muttered.

He smiled. "Good morning, sunshine." She scowled and he laughed softly. "I'm going back to the hospital. Do you want to come with me?"

"Why? Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Carolyn will be here in an hour and she asked me to meet her there. You can stay here if you want. I'll take the subway."

"No, no...I'll go with you. Give me a minute to get dressed."

She sat up and he rose from where he'd been sitting. She felt another surge of disappointment. It was frustrating to watch him withdraw time and again, but she was determined to proceed at his pace, so again she let him go. He murmured something about waiting in the living room and he left, closing the door behind him. She looked at the door for a moment, then got up to get dressed.

Halfway down the hall, he stopped, rubbed the back of his neck and looked over his shoulder toward the closed door. A myriad jumble of emotion was coursing through him, and it was convenient to blame it on the medicine that was still working its way out of his system, but he knew better. He knew that his affection for her was slowly escalating and when his inhibitions were down they came through more strongly. But he remained hesitant, and he wasn't sure why. He continued down the hall to the living room to wait for her.


	7. Back at the Hospital

Barek was nervous. She had no idea what to expect and it worried her that Logan was in intensive care. Things between them were very good, and she struggled to keep images of what Ross had told her from her mind. After talking to Bobby a second time, she parked in the hospital garage and headed for the intensive care waiting room.

Eames saw her first and got up from her chair to embrace her. She was glad Barek had arrived; she was getting tired watching Goren pace. Stepping away from Eames, Barek approached Goren. She studied his face, tired and pale, and let him gather her into a hug. Leaning back, she touched his cheek. "You look pale," she commented.

"He was hit by a ricochet," Eames informed her.

Now she really felt badly for asking him to be there. "Oh, Bobby...you should have told me. I'd never have asked you to come down."

"One reason why I didn't tell you," he replied with a small smile. "I'm all right. I don't mind being here with you." He hesitated, guiding her to a bank of chairs and urging her to sit down. Easing himself into the seat beside her, his eyes strayed past her to meet Eames'. Then he looked back at Barek. "Before we go in there, you need to prepare yourself."

"Is he bad?"

"Bad enough. He's on a respirator and hooked up to monitors and IVs. It's not easy to see him laying there like he is."

She turned and looked at Eames, who nodded. "He doesn't look good," she warned.

Barek became silent, and they waited until she finally nodded. "I want to see him."

Goren looked at Eames, again meeting her eyes before he finally stood, softly grunting at the flare of pain across his flank. Barek looked at him with concern and Eames touched his elbow. He waved away their concern and headed toward the door. Eames shrugged at Barek. "You know how he gets."

"Don't I...Are you sure he's all right?"

Eames nodded. "He's fine. I think everything is trying to catch up with him and he's still trying to stay ahead of it. It will hit him hard when it does catch up."

"In the meantime, he's going to be pleasant."

"No kidding."

He waited in the doorway as they talked among themselves, slowly making their way toward him. Eames knew that impatient pose well. "Calm down," she soothed. "He's not going anywhere."

"Just come on," he grumbled.

He knew he was operating on borrowed time at the moment, and he wanted to be home when it finally hit him. He continued toward the intensive care unit.

Goren and Eames both recognized the nurse they'd spoken to earlier. He smiled at her and her face brightened. "Hello, detectives. I didn't expect you to be back so soon."

"We didn't expect to be back either. This is Carolyn Barek. She has medical authority for Detective Logan."

Pulling a neatly folded paper from her pocket that she'd stopped at home to retrieve, Barek handed it to the nurse, who examined it. Rising, she made a copy of it, handing the original back to Barek and placing the copy in an orange chart on a rack beside her desk. "Is there anything I can tell you?"

"How is he doing?"

"He's stable and seems to be resting comfortably."

"What is his prognosis?"

"It's guarded at the moment. It could go either way."

"Can we see him?"

"Briefly. We normally only allow two visitors at a time, but given the circumstances, I'll allow three. Just make it quick."

"Thank you."

Goren stepped back to allow the two women to precede him. He gave the nurse a smile and said, "Thank you."

She watched him walk away before returning to her work.

* * *

Eames and Barek both stopped in the doorway to Logan's room, staring into the dimly lit interior. Goren gave them each a gentle push. "He won't bite," he whispered.

Eames glared at him. "I _will_. Cool your jets."

He stepped back with a frown, hesitated for a moment, then moved past them into the room. He muttered something under his breath, but she didn't catch what he said. "Don't be an ass," she warned.

He chose to ignore her. Barek had not taken her eyes from her former partner. Stubborn, cynical, macho Mike...taken down, but not out, fighting for his life in a hospital bed. She moved slowly into the room, sensing Eames behind her, seeing Goren across the bed from her. She stepped up to Logan's side, sliding her hand into his. "Look at you," she said softly. "I leave for three stinking days, and look what you go and do. Next time, just ask me not to go, dumbass."

Leaning down, she gave him a soft kiss. She felt Eames' hand on her back and she rested her head against his chest for a moment. Goren laid a gentle hand on her head, stroking her temple lightly with his thumb. She relaxed a little. Finally she straightened. "I guess we'd best not overstay our welcome."

"You can stay, if you want," Goren assured her. "They'll let you. If you're okay, Alex and I will go."

She studied him and she knew home was where he needed to be. He wasn't looking too hot at the moment, and he needed rest. "Go home," she assured him. "Before you collapse. We don't need two of you in here. I'm okay now."

She didn't flinch under his intense gaze. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Bobby. Thank you for coming down; I'm glad you were here. I really wasn't prepared to see him like this. But I'm fine now, and I'll stay with him."

"Promise you'll call if you need us."

"I will. Go and get some rest. You need it, both of you."

Eames stepped away from the bed, gave Barek a brief hug and headed for the door. Goren hesitated, looking down at Logan. In his mind, he saw images of his friend, laughing on the other side of a pool table, beer in one hand, pool cue in the other. Those images were replaced by memories of the man laying in a pool of his own blood, his life hanging on by a thread that was in Goren's hand. He felt another tremor shake his body as he returned to the present. He listened to the quiet rasp of the respirator behind him, gradually becoming aware of a hand on his arm. He looked down into dark, familiar eyes.

She saw grief and regret in his eyes; he saw gratitude and comfort in hers. Leaning down, he gave her a gentle kiss. She rested a hand on his cheek and whispered, "Do me another favor?"

"What?"

"Don't sleep on the couch."

He touched her chin, gently trailing his thumb along her jaw, and he stepped away. She moved away from him, closer to the head of the bed, and said good-bye, turning her attention back to Logan as Goren and Eames headed out of the ICU.

On their way to the car, Eames asked, "Do you regret breaking up with her?"

"No. It was the right thing to do."

"Why?"

"We're...too compatible, too much alike. It would never have worked and we both realized that. Besides, she's in love with Logan. I wasn't about to stand in the way of that."

"You don't think she loves you?"

"I never said she didn't. I suppose it's a matter of degrees. She loves him more."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

She pulled out the keys as they arrived at the car. She didn't answer him until they were both in the car. "Do you ever consider your own feelings about anything? Sometimes, it's okay to think about yourself."

"What makes you think I wasn't? If we'd persisted, we would have both gotten hurt and maybe we'd have ended up resenting each other. Neither of us wanted that. We did what was right for both of us."

"Because she loves Logan?"

"That was only part of it, Eames. It was more complicated than that. I love her, but I'm not in love with her. There's a big difference. I know I can be stubborn, but I'm not a fool."

He was skirting the issue she wanted to address, and she wondered if he even realized it. But she let the subject drop and started the car. He fell into his thoughts and she left him alone. Neither of them spoke as she headed back for his apartment.

* * *

Eames watched him walk down the hallway toward his apartment, and she saw the unsteadiness of his gait. He shouldn't have gone back to the hospital, but he wasn't going to let a friend down. As he unlocked the door, she rested her hand on his back. Tension made his muscles tremble and she realized only then how much of a struggle it was for him to remain upright. He was exhausted, and the trauma of his injury further sapped his strength. He needed rest.

She closed the door behind her and engaged the deadbolt. "Go to bed," she said softly.

"I..."

"No argument. I'll get your medicine. Now go, unless you really want to spend the next however many hours on the floor because I will not be able to pick you up if you collapse."

"But..."

"Go."

He met her eyes and saw the steely resolve there. He knew that it was useless to argue and she was right, he wasn't going to last much longer. With a soft sigh of resignation, he headed for the bedroom, reassured only by the fact that he had a comfortable couch for her to sleep on.

In the bedroom, he pulled off his shirt and changed into a pair of sweat pants. By the time he sat on the edge of the bed, she had returned to his side. When she held out her hand, he turned his palm up to accept the medicine. As he swallowed the pills with the water she brought, she gently ran her fingers through his hair. He was too tired to react, except to enjoy the contact. Setting the glass on the bedside table, he let her coax him back onto the pillows, beneath the blanket. He watched her through half-closed eyes. "Sleep well, Bobby," she said softly, regret tinging her tone.

He heard the sad note that colored her voice and he grabbed her hand as she turned away. She looked back at him, a question in her eyes. He pulled her closer, propping himself up onto his elbow. Releasing her hand, he reached toward her, sliding his hand along the side of her head, letting his fingers weave into her hair. He continued to pull her closer and his lips brushed lightly across hers. When she offered no resistance, he deepened the tentative kiss, laying back onto the pillows and drawing her along with him.

Sliding over on the bed, he coaxed her down beside him, under the blankets, and drew her against his body. "I need you," he whispered into her hair. "Please stay."

She snuggled into his arms and whispered back, "I'll stay for as long as you want me to."

He was quiet, considering her words as he felt himself falling toward sleep. He tightened his arms around her and murmured, "Never go."

She felt his arms relax and his breathing deepened. She pressed herself closer against his body, warm and comfortable in his embrace, and she soon slept as well.


	8. Passing Thoughts

**A/N: This is a short filler chapter...there will be more to come very soon. **

* * *

He tossed in his sleep as images of his injured friend, covered in blood and laying on the ground, bounded through his head. Cutting through the nightmare came pain, a sharp pain slicing through his flank and causing cold sweat to run along his skin, soaking the sheets. He groaned and turned from side to side, seeking a way to escape, but movement only made it worse. With a gasp, he jerked awake, a line of fire flaring across his flank and deep into his side. Beside him, he felt movement, and it drew his attention to the sheets and his partner. _I'll stay for as long as you want me to._

She turned toward him, her sleep disturbed by his restless thrashing. _Never go._

Her eyes opened, and she studied him with a sleepy look. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Reaching toward her, he gently brushed her hair off her face. He shook his head. "N-nothing. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Pain or nightmares?"

He was surprised. How could she know? Was she able to read him that well? "B-both."

She reached out and settled her hand on his injured side. He closed his eyes with a soft moan as his muscles tensed against the contact. Then her hand began to move in slow circles over his skin. Her cool, gentle touch felt good, soothing the fire that burned through his side. She continued lightly stroking his warm skin, and he relaxed. With the relaxation, sleep slowly returned. She slid closer, nestling against his chest, and also went back to sleep.

* * *

Barek remained at Logan's side through the day, leaving only to go outside for some air and a break from the oppressive environment of the intensive care unit. Every time she left the building, she had to fight down an urge to call Bobby or Alex. They needed rest and she wasn't going to bother them. She would call later, maybe see if they would join her for dinner. 

She found herself getting by with memories. Her mind wandered down the path her partnership with Mike had taken up until her departure from MCS almost a year ago. She also remembered the evolution of her friendship with Eames and the months she had spent dating Bobby. They broke up just before she left the squad. It was an amicable parting, though she found herself missing his gentle manner, his quiet laugh and his unquenchable passion. In a lot of ways, she envied his partner, because Alex had something Bobby had never been able to give her: his heart. It was that realization, and the added fact that they were simply too much alike, that led her to agree with him that they had no future as anything more than friends. Three months later, she found herself in Logan's bed. Last month, for the first time, her irascible former partner told her he loved her. Now look at him...every time that thought surfaced, she had to fight down her emotions and tell him to quit messing around and get better. Sometimes a gentle hand was able to persuade him to do what he needed to do, but more often a slap upside the head was more effective. Sometimes, Mike just needed to be strong-armed...and she was not afraid to get tough with him. Tough and tender...the men in her life. And she wouldn't trade them for the world.

* * *

Goren stirred in his sleep and softly groaned. Again, a gentle hand, calming and caressing, settled him. This time, soft lips skimmed over his and he groaned again, bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek as he deepened the kiss. His other hand slid beneath her shirt to rub the soft skin of her back. When his hand strayed over the swell of her hip and buttock, she gasped into his mouth and drove him toward further exploration. She readily reciprocated, tickling his waist, caressing his uninjured side, probing his mouth with a searching tongue. The fire of passion too long denied overwhelmed any other sensation either felt, and it enabled him to react and respond without reserve. A passing thought that he might regret it later remained just that, a passing thought that, once gone, never returned. And when she murmured "I love you" into his ear, he responded in kind without hesitation, and he meant it. 

After a shower, he let her change the dressing over his injury, and he checked the messages on his phone. He still expected at least one of them to be from his mother, and the absence of any reminded him of her passing. He still struggled with his loss, but it was slowly improving. He was moving on.

He had two messages. The first was from Ross. Major Case was not being given the shooting, so there was no need for him to rush and return to work, that he should take the time he needed to recover. He wasn't certain how to take that but he resolved to bully Ross into getting him and Eames put on the case. The second message was from Barek, asking him to call her in the ICU as soon as he got the message. He made the call right away.


	9. The Fallen

When Eames came out of the shower, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. "Something wrong?"

He looked over his shoulder. "Uh, I don't think so, but we should head over to the hospital. Carolyn said Mike was having some trouble. They think they got it under control, but...she needs some support. She shouldn't be there alone. Intensive Care can be...overwhelming. We should take her out for dinner, try to get her to eat something. It would be good for her to have a break, you know, from the stress of the hospital."

"Absolutely. Let me get dressed and we'll go."

He watched her pull on her jeans and as she buttoned and zipped them, he rose from where he was sitting and came up behind her. Gently, he let his fingers caress the bare skin of her back. Closing her eyes, she drew in a steadying breath and the shirt in her hands slipped through her fingers as her grip failed. His lips, and the scruff of two days' without shaving, skimmed across the back of her shoulders as his hands trailed along her sides and around to her stomach. His fingers undid the jeans she had just buttoned and she spun to face him, kissing him fiercely. Off came the jeans she had just put on as he backed her toward the bed, holding and caressing her. He wasn't sure he could have stopped himself if he wanted to...but he didn't want to...

* * *

Not even Eames could keep him from work the following day. After spending the previous evening and a good portion of the night with Barek at the hospital, he was chomping at the bit to find the sniper who'd come so close to killing his friend. Goren did not have many good friends, and he was ferociously protective of the ones he had. 

Ross looked up at the knock on his door, frowning at the big detective who filled the doorway. "What is it, detective?"

Goren came into the office. "Um, I'd like to talk to you about the shooting, Captain."

"First of all, I think I told you to take a few days off. You still look like you could use it."

"I don't need any more time off. What I do need is to find that sniper before he takes out someone else."

"Goren, we have enough to do. Manhattan homicide can handle it."

Goren shifted uncomfortably. "No, sir. I don't think they can, not by themselves. This guy has a lot of rage...a vendetta to satisfy. I...I don't think this was an isolated incident. I.."

He was cut off by the phone. Ross grabbed it. "Ross." He listened in silence, his face grim. His eyes shifted to Goren and his frown deepened. "Yes, sir. I'll send some officers down there."

He hung up the phone and said, "Battery Park. Get your partner and go."

"Another shooting?"

Ross nodded and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Grab another team to go with you."

Goren left the office. Ross could hear the minor commotion in the squad room, and by the time he got to the door of his office, half his squad was gone.

* * *

The scene was still in chaos when the Major Case teams arrived. A uniformed officer ran up to them and motioned them down. "The shooting hasn't stopped yet. I have five officers down and two detectives." 

"What was going on when the shooting started?" Eames asked.

"Someone found a body just inside the park, near Pearl and State. Manhattan Homicide just got here and started processing the scene when the firing began."

Goren was surveying the area as he listened. "Where were the shots fired from?"

"That's just it...Either this guy is on the move or there's more than one of them. Just when we start to close on one location, shots come from another."

Eames could tell Goren was getting impatient. "Where did the last shots come from?"

"Over by Castle Clinton...about ten minutes ago. The guys I sent over there found shell casings but no shooter. We..."

He was cut off by the sounds of more gunfire and shouting. With a muttered swear he took off in the direction of the noise, with the Major Case detectives right behind him. It wasn't far away. There were three more cops down, and the others were returning fire. They took cover as they approached. When the gunfire died down, several uniformed officers took off in the direction the bullets had come from while the rest gradually came out from under cover. "Detective Goren," a voice called to him from behind.

He turned to greet Eddie Green. "Hello, Detective Green," he replied, extending his hand.

Green accepted his hand and smiled at Eames. "Hello, Detective Eames."

"It's good to see you again, Detective Green." She looked around. "Have you gotten anywhere with this case?"

Green shook his head. "This is the closest we've gotten...and I'll bet a month's pay when they get there, this joker will be gone again. He just..vanishes into thin air."

Goren rubbed his forehead and frowned. "What else do you have?"

Before Green could answer, more shots erupted. Goren felt an explosion of white hot fire erupt in his shoulder as the force of the impact spun him to the left and dropped him to the ground. His first impulse was to search for his partner. Rolling onto his side, ignoring the pain, he looked for her. The scene around him didn't register. The sound of gunfire faded, as did the shouting. The only thing he saw was Eames, laying on the ground nearby. Just below her vest, blood spread over her white shirt.

"No..."

He crawled to her side, carefully placing his own body between her and the still active gunman.

"Eames..." he said softly as he opened her vest.

He knew the injury was serious. "Alex..." he murmured, carefully opening her shirt and placing his hand firmly over the wound in her abdomen. "No..."

He ignored the blood that ran down his arm, mingling with her blood as it pooled around his hand. He ignored the pain in his shoulder and fought to push away the darkness that threatened to overtake him, focusing all his energy into putting pressure on her wound. He remained unaware of anything around him, until the paramedics came to take her away. Only then, did he let go, surrendering to the pain and the darkness that came with it.


	10. A Captain's Nightmare

She hated the fact that she was getting used to the sound of the respirator beside his bed. She didn't want to get used to it. She wanted the thing gone, wanted him breathing on his own. She wanted him to recover. But more than anything she wanted to see that lopsided smirk of his, the one he always gave her when he was trying to get out of trouble—the endearing bad boy grin of the mischievous child within the man.

She ran her fingers through the thick mop of hair on his head. Nothing had changed. He was not improving, but he wasn't getting worse either. "Come on, baby," she said, not for the first time. "Breathe for me."

* * *

_This can't be happening_, Ross thought to himself as he walked from his car to the emergency room at NYU. He had another half dozen officers, downed by this sniper. Logan was still fighting for his life, and now he had company. This was a nightmare. 

Ethan Carruthers saw the captain enter the emergency room and approached him. Ross held out his hands. "What happened?"

"The shooting stopped, Captain. Everyone came out from under cover and I think half the uniforms there went to try and find the guy. Then the shooting started again."

Ross scrubbed his hands over his face. "How bad is it? Anyone killed?"

"Not yet...but it's bad enough." He hesitated. "Captain...Eames was hit."

Ross stiffened. "How bad? What about Goren?"

Carruthers was surprised. Everyone liked Eames, but he was surprised that the captain, of all people, would be worried about Goren. It was no secret that Goren was a huge headache for Ross...and there was no love lost between them. Carruthers rubbed the back of his neck. He was one of several guys in the squad who had given the quirky genius a chance, and he liked Goren. "They took her up to surgery right away. Um...when she was hit...uh, Goren went down, too. But he...uh, he put himself in between her and the sniper. I'm not sure of the progression...he was hit in the shoulder, and I think that's the one that took him down. He took a couple more hits after that, protecting his partner, they say. Good thing he was vested."

"Where is he?"

"Out cold. When he started coming around, he was so agitated, they had to knock him out again, so he wouldn't hurt himself worse."

"Who else was hit?"

"Sanchez, Rivera, Carson and White. Rivera, Carson and White are already in surgery. Sanchez is almost done over in exam 4."

"Where were you?"

"With a couple of uniforms, heading toward the guy's last position. I swear, captain, either there's more than one shooter or this guy's Spiderman. I haven't had a chance to discuss it with Goren yet. Just tonight, the guy changed locations five times. I don't get it. I talked with Eddie Green and his partner—it's their case. They're stumped. Um...I don't think they'll object to our help."

Ross nodded. "I'll talk to van Buren. Your partner is out of commission at the moment..."

"Um, yeah...and so's Goren's."

"Carruthers, Goren was injured..."

Carruthers laughed, a soft, sad sound. "Do you _still_ not know the guy, Captain? It was bad enough this sniper took out Logan. Now Eames is hurt...badly. There's no force in the universe that's gonna keep that guy off this case."

Ross studied the detective for a moment, then he walked away, toward the nurses' station. Carruthers shook his head and followed him.

The nurses' station was empty as nurses and doctors scrambled to deal with the injured police officers who had inundated their busy emergency room. Ross waited, though not patiently, until a nurse finally made an appearance. "Can I help you?" she asked, trying to sound patient.

He held out his badge. "Captain Ross, from the Major Case Squad. You have several of my detectives here and I want to know how they're doing."

"What are their names?"

"Eames, Goren, Sanchez, White, Rivera and Carson."

She looked at a board. "Detectives Eames, Rivera, White and Carson are already in surgery. Detective Sanchez is getting stitches; we're almost through with him. Detective Goren has been sedated..." She looked at him. "Do you think you can handle him?"

"No. How bad are his injuries?"

"Four broken ribs and a shoulder injury. He'll need to use an immobilizer for a few weeks. They're considering admitting him...he was very agitated when he came to earlier."

Carruthers said, "Detective Eames is his partner."

She turned hopeful eyes toward him. "Do you think you can calm him down?"

"No. But I may know someone who can. Give me fifteen. I'll be back."

* * *

"Carolyn." 

Barek turned toward the doorway, recognizing the thin man with the sandy hair and rumpled suit. "Ethan...what are you doing here?"

"How is he?"

"Okay. Stable. It's all up to him now."

"Can I borrow you for a few?"

"What happened?"

"There was another shooting."

The color drained from her face. "No..."

"Eames was badly hurt. She's in surgery, and that's all I know." She closed her eyes as he went on. "Goren was hit, too. When he started to come around, he...was a bit agitated. They couldn't calm him down and had to sedate him. Without Eames and Logan around, I'm the closest thing to a friend he's got on the squad and I know I can't handle him. I know you guys were...close...when you worked Major Case. Do you think you can do any good? They want to let him wake up."

Barek struggled to settle herself. First Mike, now Alex and Bobby...her world was disintegrating. She nodded. "I can try, but that's all I'll promise. Bobby is unpredictable. Alex is the only one I know who can handle him."

"All we can ask is that you try."

She leaned over and kissed Logan's forehead. "Bobby and Alex were injured by the same man who did this to you, Mike," she said softly. "Alex is in surgery and I have to go deal with Bobby. I'll be back soon."

She crossed the room and nodded to Carruthers. "Let's go, Ethan."

* * *

The sounds and energy of the busy emergency room were left behind as Carruthers pulled the curtain closed in the cubicle. He moved to stand near Ross, off to the side and out of the way. Slowly, Barek advanced to the side of the stretcher across from the doctor who stood waiting. She studied Goren for a long time, noting his pale face, the blood on his pants, the immobilizer that bound his arm to his body. White bandaging encircled his chest and she looked up at the doctor. "Is he hurt badly?" 

The doctor glanced at Ross, who nodded. With no one to give consent for the man, medical decisions fell to his captain. The doctor had already gone over the informed consent they had assumed in treating Goren, to save his life and keep him stable. Ross had signed the necessary papers, allowing treatment to continue. "His earlier injury compounded things, but his shoulder was the worst of it. The bullet passed through it from above, to the rear and off to one side, passing beneath the clavicle and damaging an artery. He was shocky from blood loss when he got here, but we were able to control the bleeding and with fluids, he stabilized. He took three additional hits to his back; his vest saved his life. The impact broke four ribs, but they are non-displaced. They'll cause him a lot of pain, but they shouldn't cause any harm. He's not going to be moving quickly for awhile, but he's all right."

From the corner Ross asked, "Are you going to admit him?"

"Only if he gives us a reason...like if we have to keep him sedated."

"How much longer will he be out?" Barek asked.

"He's started coming out of it. It won't be long."

She nodded and returned her attention to Goren. Sliding her hand into his, she gently stroked his arm and waited. As the doctor had predicted, it didn't take long. Goren groaned, muttering his partner's name as he began to toss. "No...no..."

"Shhh..." Barek soothed. "Easy, Bobby..."

His breathing became ragged and he groaned. The doctor stood by with a syringe, ready to use it if he had to, and Carruthers and Ross stood ready to restrain him, if that became necessary. "Eames..." he murmured, and then repeated, "No..."

He was beginning to get agitated and the doctor raised the syringe. Barek motioned him away. Goren started up off the stretcher, but she pushed his shoulders gently back onto the pillow, being careful with the injured one. "Calm down, Bobby."

Ross started forward, but Carruthers grabbed his arm and shook his head at the captain. "He'll hurt her," the captain hissed.

"No, he won't. Give her a chance...and trust Bobby for a change."

Goren's eyes fluttered open and he started to resist her. "No..." he groaned.

"Bobby...look at me...come on..."

His breathing wasn't settling and he was still out of it enough that he didn't recognize her. He continued to struggle and the doctor came forward. "Back off," Barek growled.

Surprised, he lowered the syringe and stepped back. She returned her attention to Goren, smoothing his hair back as she pressed her weight against his uninjured shoulder, keeping him from getting up. "Calm down..." Her gentle voice was soothing. "Come on, Bobby...listen to me...you're not doing anyone any good, least of all Alex...settle down..."

She watched as his eyes slowly cleared. His breathing was still ragged, now driven more by pain than agitation. He groaned deeply. "Carolyn..." he whispered. He stopped fighting her. "Alex...?"

"She's in surgery right now."

He blinked a few times. "Sh-she was bleeding...I...I...tried to stop it..."

"You did a good job, Bobby. She's still alive."

He clenched his hand into a fist, pressing it into his chest, and squeezed his eyes closed. His breathing was still ragged, but it was slower. She watched him tremble as he struggled to control himself. Her hand tightened around his and she lightly stroked his arm again. He tried to take a deep breath, which was followed by a gasp as pain shot up his back and tightened in a band around his chest. He swore, then opened his eyes and looked at her apologetically. "Carolyn..." he said softly. "I...I need..." he trailed off. "I have to check on her," he muttered. "I...I need to...get out of here..."

"First, you need to calm down and listen to the doctor. I'll go check on Alex for you, but you have to behave. I want your word."

He nodded. She helped him sit up and the doctor raised the head of the bed. He leaned back into it and groaned again. He hadn't released her hand. When he saw Ross and Carruthers standing off in the corner, his frown deepened. "Ethan..." he said quietly.

"Hey, pal."

"How bad was she?"

Carruthers hesitated before answering. "She...was hit just below her vest. That's all I know. They stabilized her quickly, which was a good sign, and got her right into surgery. You did a good job before the paramedics got there."

Goren snorted derisively. "Yeah...right...I let her get shot..."

Barek's grip on his hand tightened. "Don't go there, Bobby. You didn't let her die. If she finds out you started blaming yourself, you know what she'll do."

For the first time she saw a spark in his eyes and a smile teased at his mouth. "She'll smack the crap out of me."

"And so will I," she smiled.

Releasing her hand, he met her eyes and held her gaze. Reaching toward her, he touched her cheek and grazed her chin affectionately with his thumb. "Thanks, Carolyn." He adjusted his position and groaned. "Go back...to Mike. I'm all right. I..I'll check on Alex...an-and talk to you later." His eyes shifted toward the doctor. "Give me whatever...for the pain...and let me get out of here."

"And just where do you think you're going, detective?" Ross asked as the doctor stepped away from the stretcher, satisfied that Goren would not need the sedative. He left the cubicle to get something that would help his patient manage his pain.

Goren's eyes narrowed at his captain. "I'm going to check on my partner, and then I'm going to find the son of a bitch who did this to her."

Ross saw the defiant gleam in the big detective's eyes. There was no room for discussion. It didn't matter to Goren what the captain said; he was determined. Ross decided not to waste his time or his energy arguing with the man--not this time. "First of all, be careful. You're walking wounded and I don't need another hospitalized officer. Second, you're working with Carruthers." He looked pointedly at the detective beside him. "Keep an eye on him."

"Don't worry, captain. Maybe you should go check on Sanchez."

Ross looked at his two detectives, and then he looked at Barek. "Thank you," he told her as he pulled the curtain aside to leave. He pointed a finger at Goren. "I do expect you to handle yourself in a professional manner, detective. Don't go off on some vendetta. You're still a cop, regardless of what happens with your partner."

Goren's jaw tightened. Ross had never trusted him; why should he start now? He looked away and Ross left the room. Barek rested a hand on his chest, above his immobilized arm. "Please be careful."

Hesitating a moment, he finally looked at her. Eames and Logan were both badly injured. He didn't have it in him to cause her any further grief. "I'll be fine. Can _you _trust me at least?"

Her face relaxed into a soft smile. "I always have."

Leaning closer, she kissed his cheek and rested the side of her face against his for a moment. Stepping away, she shifted her gaze to Carruthers, who grinned at her. "We'll be fine, Carolyn. Promise."

She pointed at her former squadmate. "I'm going to hold you to that, Ethan. If anything happens to either of you, I'm coming after you both."

She left the cubicle. The doctor passed her just outside the treatment room. "Thank you very much."

She smiled. "You're welcome. I'll be in the ICU if you need me, but I don't think he'll give you any more trouble."

He nodded and pushed aside the curtain to enter the cubicle.


	11. Rascals in Bandages

**A/N: First let me apologize for the confusion. Yesterday, I inadvertently posted the wrong chapter to this story and removed it. That's why no one could find it. Call it a brain fart. My bad. Sorry. So here is the next chapter, in its proper place and accessible to whoever wants to read it. **

**That being said, let me explain something about my perception of Danny Ross. Plainly put, I like Ross. But I cannot change the way he is. He came to Major Case with a set judgment of Goren in place, and he doesn't seem the type to readily admit he is wrong. He has a different style than Deakins, who was content to let his detectives carry on as they saw fit to get the job done. Ross is more hands-on and he carries a much harder edge than Deakins did. But throughout the season he did express concern for Goren, time and again, and I see hope in this that he will overcome the prejudgments he had when he took command. Bobby, for his part, resents Ross, and I cannot blame him for that. Ross should have taken everything with a grain of salt and formed his own opinions. But I think he is beginning to see Goren for what he is: his best asset. He already recognizes that Eames is fully able to keep a handle on his behavior, and he trusts her to do just that: handle her partner. Eames is in a tough spot, caught in the middle between two equally stubborn men. So I maintain the established hardass persona that Ross has developed, and ease him toward a greater understanding of the enigma we have had six seasons to come to love and understand. I hold out hope that Ross will ease up on him and eventually earn Bobby's respect. It's going to be a hard road.**

* * *

Barek remained lost in thought as she made her way back to Intensive Care. She was tempted to return to the ER, just to make sure Bobby really was all right. With Alex hurt...there was no telling how he was going to react, though she'd bet money it wouldn't be good. But Ethan knew where to find her, and she wasn't comfortable being away from Mike for long. 

She returned to his bedside to find nothing had changed, although the nurses seemed to be coming and going a little more frequently, checking the monitor over his bed and adjusting the settings on the respirator. She sat down, sliding her hand into his again. "I'm back. Uh, Alex...is in surgery right now and Bobby...well, you know Bobby. He and Ethan Carruthers are working together now, to go after this guy, before he hurts anyone else." She sighed. "I'm worried about him, Mike. If anything happens to Alex..." She sighed miserably at the thought. If anything happened to Alex, she feared she would lose two dear friends.

One of the nurses came hurrying in, studying the monitor over his bed with an intensity Barek found disconcerting. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Perplexed, the nurse asked, "Has he...done anything?"

"Done anything? I thought he was in a coma."

"So did we. But something's going on. He may be coming out of it. Call us if you notice any changes."

"Don't worry. I will."

She turned her full attention to him, away from thoughts of injured friends and worries for a former lover. "What are you up to, Logan?" she asked.

She didn't notice any difference. Slowly she shook her head. They had to be imagining things, or maybe they were being inordinately hopeful. But that was unusual for the staff of an intensive care unit. They existed on pure skepticism. It was emotionally dangerous to be hopeful for intensive care patients. There was a reason they were in intensive care, and many of them never left through those doors alive. But she chased her mind away from such disturbing thoughts.

She saw nothing different, no signs of animation in his features, no muscle twitches, nothing to feed her hope that he might be coming out of it. "Come on, Mike. Don't be so stubborn. Wake up."

As if in response to her, something resembling a groan rumbled through his chest and his hand began to raise toward his head. She grabbed it and called for a nurse, grateful one came running when he started to thrash. She had no trouble restraining him; there was not much strength behind his thrashing. When his lids flew open, she read panic in his dark eyes. "Easy, Mike...calm down..."

As recognition replaced the panic, he calmed. Her grip loosened and she eased away from his body. His eyes shifted to the nurse on the other side of the bed, listening to his chest with a stethoscope. He looked back at Barek, pleading. "Hold on," she encouraged, understanding his silent plea. Addressing the nurse, she said, "He wants this thing out of his throat."

"I'll have to discuss it with the doctor. I'll be right back."

Logan's eyes perused the room. Now that his panic was subsiding, he became aware of pain deep in his gut, and it was getting worse. He wanted to know what happened to him, why he was here, and whether or not Barek could explain the feeling of dread that filled him. She was supposed to be in Washington...what the hell had happened? _All right, screw this..._

He gently slipped his hand from hers, reaching toward her to run his fingers along the side of her face. He managed a smile with his eyes. As his hand fell away from her face, he gripped the tube that came out of his mouth and yanked. Gagging and coughing, he doubled over as white-hot pain shot through his gut. He heard Barek's panic as she yelled his name. Okay, maybe that wasn't the brightest thing he'd done in awhile...

He was aware of the people that came running into the room, but he was too busy trying to deal with the pain that seared his gut with every cough to acknowledge any of them. _Stop coughing, Mike, _he admonished himself. _This coughing's gonna kill ya._

Gradually, his body calmed and the coughing subsided. He continued breathing on his own, ragged and shallow though his breaths were. Each breath left a trail of fire down his throat and his chest muscles were sore. "Carolyn," he rasped, surprised at how hoarse his whispered voice sounded.

He searched for her, but all he found were doctors and nurses, poking at him, listening with stethoscopes and generally annoying him. "Get...off...me," he growled.

Barek's stern voice reached his ears. "Calm down and let them examine you, Logan."

"What...happened?"

The man who stood at his left answered instead of Barek. "You were shot, Detective Logan. Now let us examine you. I would prefer not to sedate you at the moment."

He tried to moisten dry lips. "I...hurt..."

"Okay, we can give you something for that. Let us finish what we need to do."

Reluctantly, more because he had no choice than from any sense of cooperation, he let them finish. The doctor spoke to two nurses and then to Barek, and everyone filed from the room except Barek and one nurse. Barek returned to his side and shook her head. "You're a piece of work, Logan. What were you thinking?"

He managed a grin and the hard look on her face softened. "That...thing...needed..." He tried to moisten his lips again. "Wanted...it...out..."

"You could have waited for them to take it out."

He shook his head. "No...fun...in that..."

"You need to quit having so much fun."

But there was no harsh tone underlying her words and she gently caressed his face. He leaned his cheek into her hand and closed his eyes. It took an effort he almost didn't have to open them again. "What...happened?"

"You were shot by a sniper. Mike, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Bobby."

"Bobby?"

She nodded. "You would have bled out before the paramedics got there...if he hadn't..." She hesitated, unsure about how he would respond. "If he hadn't slowed the bleeding."

"Slowed..." He raised an eyebrow. "Tell me...he at least...had gloves..."

She couldn't help laughing. "You're alive, Mike. He didn't just leave you there."

He managed a sound that resembled a snort. "I'd-a...kicked his...ass."

"Oh, yeah... I'm sure that was his motivation."

"What else...?"

She sighed heavily. "That murder in the park...was just the first set up."

"First?"

"There was another shooting a little while ago."

He waited, sensing her upset. His hand tightened around hers. "What...?"

"Alex...was hit. All I know is that she's in surgery."

Dark eyes grew bright with concern, and with rage. "Bobby...?"

"He was hit, too. He's in the ER. They had to sedate him because he wouldn't calm down. I was just down there."

"He...okay?"

"More or less."

"Go..check on them..."

She hesitated. "Mike..."

"Please..."

With a heavy sigh, she squeezed his hand. "Can I trust you to behave?"

"Promise."

She looked up at the nurse, who nodded. "I'll stay in here. My other patient is stable."

Barek squeezed his hand. "Behave."

He grinned and gave her a wink. She couldn't help smiling, and she leaned down to give him a soft kiss. Even injured, he was a rascal. "I'll be back shortly."

* * *

With a growing feeling of apprehension, Barek entered the main surgical waiting area. Her gut clenched when she couldn't find Goren and saw Ross crossing the room toward her. _What now?_ The captain gently took her arm and drew her off to the side. "Eames' parents are here, and two of her brothers. She's not doing so well. I have no idea where Goren is. He left the emergency room before they finished with him and no one knows where he is." 

"Ethan...?"

"I'm assuming Carruthers went with him, but neither of them will answer their phones. I'm this close to coming unglued on both of them."

She sighed, searching for patience. "Cut him some slack, captain."

His voice was low but strained. "Barek, I cannot have a loose cannon roaming the city streets. If Goren's unstable..."

"How well do you know him, captain? How hard have you even tried to get to know him?" She felt her anger rise. This wasn't her captain, but she'd heard enough about him from Logan and Eames to know what she was talking about as she laid into him. "He's not the 'loose cannon' you have always made him out to be, Captain Ross," she hissed. "You have no idea who he is and you've made no attempt to get to know him. You came into this job having already prejudged him. He's the best asset you have, and all you've done is warn Eames not to let him take her down." Her eyes narrowed and her tone became dangerous. "How dare you even insinuate he would do anything to bring harm to her or her career. I suggest you take the time to get to know a guy before you form critical judgments about him."

She turned on her heel and headed out of the room, before she really said something she would regret. In her wake, Danny Ross stood shell-shocked at her verbal attack...and the lump that formed in the pit of his stomach told him she was right.

* * *

Barek found both Goren and Carruthers in a corridor outside the operating room. She watched them for a long moment. Carruthers kept an eye on Goren as he paced opposite him in the narrow hallway. She took a longer moment to study Goren with an eye that knew him well. His gait was still unsteady but his energy drove him on. He would continue at whatever pace his body would allow him to set until he collapsed, unless someone stepped in to bring him under control. Usually it was Eames who filled that role. Now he was working with Carruthers and she questioned whether Ethan had the ability to read Goren much less to be able to reel in his reckless tendencies. In silence, she watched the men pass in mid-hall. Carruthers stopped and grabbed Goren's arm as the taller man leaned into the wall. She was reassured about Ethan, but worried about Bobby. 

Carruthers looked up as she approached and gave her a relieved grin. "They wanted to admit him and he left."

Goren turned to face her. The bandages binding his shoulder were soaked through and his breathing was shallow. "Carolyn? What are you doing here? Is...something wrong?"

She was tempted to tell him exactly what was wrong, still irritated from her confrontation with Ross, but the worry that superseded the pain and fatigue in his eyes quashed that impulse. "God, Bobby...look at you."

When he moved his hand to gesture impatiently, she grabbed it. "Mike's awake," she said softly. "And he's worried about you. So am I." She hesitated a moment longer. "Alex's parents are in the waiting room. I think you should go talk to them."

Slowly he shook his head. There was no way he could face his partner's parents. How could he tell them how sorry he was that she had gotten shot? He'd been standing right there...

"Bobby, don't..." she whispered, easily reading the look that crossed his face. "It's not your fault."

He'd forgotten how well she'd come to know him. "Sh-she was right beside me. I should have..."

Gentle fingers touched his lips, coaxing him to silence. "Don't." She looked at Carruthers. "Ethan, why don't you go tell the captain that you guys are all right? He was concerned. I'll take care of Bobby."

Carruthers looked relieved. "Thanks, Carolyn." He brought a hand to rest on Goren's uninjured shoulder. "We'll wait until Alex is out of surgery and settled, and then we'll get to work. Don't take off without me, pal. Okay?"

Goren nodded. "Thanks, Ethan."

Barek waited until Carruthers was gone before turning to Goren. "What are you doing?"

Confusion flashed across his face. "I, uh...I don't know what to...to do."

"Come with me."

"Carolyn...I..."

"Come on." She slipped her hand into his and gently tugged. He resisted for a moment before deciding he just didn't have the energy to fight with her. In silence, he let her lead him away from the operating suites. "Alex..."

"We'll find out when she comes out of surgery. Trust me."

Silence rose thick between them again, and she hoped she was doing the right thing.


	12. It Should Have Been Four

Barek kept a firm grip on Goren's hand as she led him to the intensive care unit, to Logan's small room. When she passed through the doorway to lead him to the bed, he stopped and her hand slid off his. She turned to look at him, a silent question in her eyes. His focus remained on Logan. Still breathing on his own, and still awake, Logan looked toward him from under half-closed lids. "Don't just...stand there, idiot. Get your ass over here."

Logan didn't miss the unsteadiness Goren tried to hide. He studied his friend. "You look about like I feel, you know that? You need to let them take care of you, buddy. What good's it gonna do anyone...if you kill yourself finding this bastard?"

"I'm fine."

Logan's voice was soft, but he spoke with conviction as a small measure of strength returned to him. "Sure you are. Just like I am. So how about I get up out of this bed and we'll go find this guy. I have a score to settle with him, and so do you."

"Don't be stupid, Mike."

"Oh? You got the monopoly on stupid? Go back to the ER, man, and let them fucking take care of you, before you collapse." He shifted his position and softly groaned at the pain that flared in his gut. "You're gonna hit that floor hard, Bobby."

Goren waved him off. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

Goren was in no mood to argue. He waved a hand in the air and shook his head. "I'm glad to see you awake, Mike. I...was worried about you." Steely determination hardened his dark eyes. "Now I'm going to go out there and find the son of a bitch that did this to you...and Eames."

Logan didn't miss the slight waver that accompanied the shift in tone coloring Goren's last two words. He knew the futility, then, of trying to convince his friend to slow down, to wait while his body recovered enough to let him do the job he was driven to do. No, Goren was going to push himself. He was going to drive his body past its limits until it wouldn't take any more. He wondered exactly how far it was going to let him go but remained silent as he met dark eyes filled with a maelstrom of emotion.

After his burst of annoyed energy, Logan's strength was now rapidly failing, but there was one more thing he had to say before surrendering to the darkness that was quickly approaching. "Bobby...Carolyn told me...without you...I wouldn't be around...I'm not sure I want to know what you did...but thanks for doing it."

Goren gave him a weary smile. "I like having you around, Mike."

"I kinda like being around."

His smile faded as his eyes slid closed and he surrendered to the darkness and the relief it brought from the fire that seared his gut. Barek smoothed her hand through his thick hair, then she looked at Goren. He leaned heavily against the side of the bed, not intending her to notice.

What he failed to remember was that, like himself, Barek noticed everything. She saw his unsteadiness, which he took as weakness and fought to subdue, as well as the blood that had now soaked through the bandage on his shoulder.

Quietly, she said, "I think they need to take another look at that shoulder."

He shook his head. "I'm not going back to the ER."

"Why not?"

"Because they want to admit me, and I won't stay."

She took a gambol into forbidden waters. "Maybe that's where you need to be right now."

He shook his head, anger flashing across his face, quickly subdued. "No," he said firmly. "I have work to do." His eyes darted toward Logan, who now seemed to be resting easily. His mind suddenly filled with images of his partner, laying on the ground as her blood spread over the front of her shirt, then over his hand as his own blood ran freely down his arm to pool with hers...

Barek knew the faraway look that clouded his eyes, knew he was remembering...and there was no question in her mind just what he was remembering. She reached a hand toward him. Her fingers lightly caressed his cheek and his eyes cleared, shifting to meet hers. He found comfort in her dark eyes as well as in the familiar sensation of her fingers on his skin. He fought down a pang of regret that came with that familiarity. "Come on, Bobby," she said softly. "There's one more thing I want to do."

"What's that?"

"Just come with me, will you?"

With a reluctance he was unable to identify, he forced himself to follow her, out of the ICU and down the hall. Once he realized where they were headed, he stopped. "Carolyn..."

"Come on...it's the best place to wait for word..."

"I was fine outside the surgical suites."

She turned to face him. "You can't avoid them."

"Watch me."

"Dammit, Bobby...they need to talk to you...and you need to talk to them, too."

"No, I don't."

"Listen to me, you stubborn son of a bitch," she growled, her tone low and threatening as she fearlessly planted herself directly in front of him and turned her face toward his. "You get your ass into that waiting room or I'll make sure they admit you."

Defiant refusal met stubborn insistence as they faced off in the hallway. Her fingers touched his arm and his eyes slid closed for a moment. Gently, she drew him forward again, and he surrendered. Reluctantly, he followed her into the surgical waiting room.

As they passed through the doorway, she withdrew her hand from his arm and stepped away, finding a quiet place to sit and wait as she watched John Eames approach Goren. The elder man held out a hand, which Goren accepted. "How are you, Bobby?"

"Fine, Mr. Eames."

Mary Eames stepped up to him. He leaned down to accept her arms around his neck as she pressed her lips against his unshaven cheek. "You look pale, dear."

"It's been a long night." He shifted uncomfortably. He had never received anything but warmth and kindness from this couple. Always, they treated him like family. He'd always taken his responsibility to protect his partner very seriously, whether she wanted protecting or not. Now...he'd let her down...he'd let them down. "Uh...has there been any word?"

"No," Mary answered.

John was confused and troubled by the younger man's discomfort. "Captain Ross told us what happened."

Goren's eyes drifted around the room, spotting Ross in a chair near the fish tank. Carruthers sat in another chair across the room, where he leafed through a magazine without registering the pictures or words that passed before him. Goren returned his attention to John. "I-I am very sorry, sir."

"Sorry? Sorry for what, son?"

"I...I don't remember exactly what happened. I just remembered hearing the shots...and seeing Alex..." He trailed off for a moment before he added, "I didn't protect her from what happened. More than anything else, that's what I'm sorry for."

John looked past him for a moment, to where two of his sons sat talking between themselves, waiting patiently for their parents to finish talking with their sister's partner. "Tell me something...if Alex was listening to this conversation, what do you think she would do?"

He didn't have to think about the answer. "She'd tell me she can take care of herself. But I have always watched out for her, Mr. Eames. Even if she never needed me to."

"I know that. And she has always watched out for you. But unfortunately, these things happen. This was not your fault. In fact, from what Captain Ross told us, if you had acted differently in the minutes after the first shots were fired, Alex would never have made it."

Goren looked confused, eyes darting toward the captain and then back to John. "Ross wasn't there."

"No, but there were other officers there, men who did see what happened. Men who watched you shield her from the other bullets that would have hit her. And Ross did see your vest. Three bullets, son, that would have hit my daughter. You have nothing to apologize for."

Goren lacked the strength to argue with him. Three bullets...it should have been four. He gave them all the smile he could muster, scant reassurance of his physical and emotional stability at the moment. When he withdrew, they let him go. Barek watched him cross the room to stand near the windows and look out over the city. Every cop in this room had shed sweat, and many had shed blood, trying to keep those streets safe for the public at large. As was proven by their fallen comrades, they made themselves walking targets. And the bloodshed was not over yet...


	13. SingleMinded Determination

Barek knew well how Goren got when he was anxious, and she couldn't think of anything that would make him more anxious than the current circumstances, yet he stayed by the window, leaning against the wall and looking out over the city. He wasn't pacing or showing any signs of restlessness, and that worried her. Each of Eames' brothers went over to talk to him, but their conversations were brief and the men came away looking worried. She went to check on Logan and, after returning, gave Goren the better part of an hour, then she approached him.

He felt her hand come to rest on the small of his back and he looked at her. She gave him a small smile. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better."

"I imagine. Talk to me, Bobby."

He returned his gaze out the window and remained silent. Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, he said, "I feel...lost. I-I didn't even feel this bad when my mother died. I don't know what to do...and...I'm...I'm tired."

She knew intuitively he was not referring to physical fatigue. "I know you're not going to listen to me, but I think you should let them admit you for a day or two at least."

He began shaking his head before she even finished talking. "That's not an option," he said quietly.

"Suppose I agreed to work with Ethan until you feel a little better?"

Again he shook his head. "You're not NYPD anymore, Carolyn. Ross would never agree to it."

"And neither would you, right?"

His eyes slid closed. "Forgive me," he whispered. "First Mike, now Alex...I...no, I don't want you anywhere near this."

Her eyebrows came together in a dark frown. "Look, Bobby..."

He turned his head to look at her and she fell silent. Slowly she nodded her head. "All right. You win this one...but only if you will promise to at least give yourself a few hours to sleep...once we know how Alex is."

"I don't know if I can sleep, no matter how tired I am...not with her..." He paused as if gathering strength to complete the sentence. "...not doing well."

"Let's wait for the doctors to tell us how she's doing before we make broad assumptions, okay?"

Remembering the blood that had covered his hands and soaked the cuffs of his shirt, he found himself unable to agree with her. He turned his attention back to the streets beyond the hospital windows and tried to figure out what would make a man do what this one had done. Barek spent the rest of the day traveling back and forth from the surgical waiting room to the ICU. Logan remained resting comfortably, but she was worried about Goren. He was at the edge of emotional control as he skirted physical collapse. She wondered how much harder he could push himself, not really wanting to find out the answer.

When the doctor came into the waiting room, the first thing Goren noticed when he looked at the man was how exhausted he was. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he realized Eames had been in surgery for nearly ten hours, and it was well past dinnertime. He wasn't surprised, though, that he felt no hunger. There was no room in his gut for food right now. The pain medication they'd given him in the ER had long since worn off and he was feeling nauseous and unsteady from the pain and the stress his body had been subjected to lately. But he was determined to conquer his body's shortcomings. In silence he listened to what the doctors told her family.

"The bullet's path was erratic and there was damage to her colon as well as several blood vessels and her left kidney. It was touch and go for awhile there, but once we got her stabilized, we were able to repair all the damage and she came through it like a champ. We transferred her to intensive care for observation, but I don't anticipate she'll be there for long. She seems past the worst of it. She was very fortunate; it could have been much worse. She got immediate attention which limited her blood loss, or she would have been in much less stable condition going into surgery. We have every reason to believe she will recover completely."

When Barek turned to talk to Goren, she was surprised to find that he'd moved away from the group and returned to the window. She wasn't sure what was going through his mind, except that the doctor's comments about "immediate attention," which referred to what he had done for Eames, did not register. When she joined him at the window, he didn't acknowledge her. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly. "She's out of surgery and they say she'll be all right."

He just nodded. When she touched his arm, he tensed. "Bobby?"

Finally he sighed. "You're staying here, aren't you, Carolyn?"

"Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

He met her eyes. "I have work to do," he said softly. "Tell...tell her I'm sorry...I let her down. I'll...talk to her later. Just...keep an eye on them both...for me."

"Bobby, listen to me..."

He shook his head. "I'm done listening. She's going to be all right. That's all I wanted to hear. Now...I have a job to do."

"And if that job drives you into the ground?"

He leaned over, bringing his face close to hers. "I won't let it."

"Damn you, you are not invincible..."

He silenced her with a soft kiss. "Tell her I love her," he whispered. "And I love you, too."

He moved past her and left the waiting room. Carruthers saw him head for the door, and he went after him, glancing at Barek long enough to give her a reassuring nod before he vanished through the doorway. John Eames approached her. "Where did Bobby go?" he asked.

"Back to work," she replied.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"I sure hope so, Mr. Eames. But I have my doubts." She looked at him. "I'm glad Alex is going to be all right. Please excuse me. I really have to get back to intensive care."

She hurried out the door, glancing down the hall toward the elevators, but Goren and Carruthers were gone.

* * *

Logan was awake when she returned to his room, and he knew her well enough to know that she was deeply disturbed about something. "What's wrong?"

She sat heavily. "Your buddy is going to drive me up a wall."

"What'd he do now?"

"I don't know what to do with him, Mike. You saw how he was when he was here. Trust me when I tell you he hasn't improved. And now he's gone back to work."

"Has he rested at all?"

"Not since they had him sedated in the ER."

"Some rest that is." He studied her. "You're really worried."

She nodded. "He'll drive himself until he collapses, Mike."

He took a deep breath, groaning when pain flared in his gut again. Once it subsided, he continued, "There's something you need to understand, Carolyn. He is already carrying a double burden of guilt because that's what he does. He learned at an early age that everything bad that happens is somehow his fault, just like I did. You get beat enough times, you believe it. I understand where he's coming from because I had the same kind of childhood. The difference is: he reacts with guilt; I react with anger. Bobby's not as volatile as I am. But he's much more dangerous, because he has a quiet temper, until it boils over. Then...watch out."

"You're not making me feel any better, you know."

"Just be glad you're not this sniper. When Bobby catches up with him..." He shook his head slowly.

"Is there anything I can do?"

He settled into the pillows, searching for a more comfortable position. "Get me something to eat?"

She laughed. "Your food in in those IVs, pal. Your gut has to heal before you can take food again."

"Shit...I'm hungry now."

Leaning over, she kissed him. "Deal with it," she whispered.

He laid his hand against her cheek. "You look tired. Go home, sweetheart. Get some sleep and come back in the morning. I'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"Promise. I don't feel half-bad right now."

She thought over his suggestion. A night in her bed was a very welcoming prospect. "Go on," he encouraged. "Check on Alex and go home. All I'll be doing is sleeping. You don't have to be here for that."

"True. You're much more interesting when you're awake." She let out a sigh. "All right, Mike. I'll be back first thing in the morning. You behave yourself."

"I promise." He called to her when she got to the door. "Tell Bobby I said hi."

She smiled at him and left the room. Two doors down, she found Eames still sleeping as she recovered from her surgery. Her brothers had visited briefly and gone home. Only her parents remained now. But she couldn't help wondering if Alex noticed someone missing. It was his voice she would be listening for and not hearing. He would be here, at her beside, but for one thing: his single-minded determination to track down the man who had done this to her. This sniper was his white whale and she prayed he would not meet the same fate Ahab had. He was certainly heading in that direction.


	14. Where He Needs to Be

**A/N: First, I need to apologize for the delay in updating. I'm doing my best, but things keep coming up. Please don't think I have abandoned anything. They're coming along, just a little more slowly than I'd like :-) Bear with me...**

* * *

Although the squad room had undergone some remodeling, the feel of the place had not changed. Sometimes she regretted her decision to leave, but considering how close she had gotten to Logan since then, she decided it had been a good move.

There wasn't much activity in the bullpen this late in the day, so she had no difficulty locating Carruthers when he came out of a conference room, She watched him head toward the break room. "Ethan?"

He turned toward her. "Carolyn? What are you doing here?"

She sighed. "Where is he?"

He looked over his shoulder. "To be honest with you, I didn't expect him to last this long. He's in conference one."

"Give us a few minutes."

"Sure. Let me know. I'll just hang out here."

"Thanks."

She followed the path Carruthers had just taken from the conference room and slipped through the door, closing it behind her. Goren was pacing in front of a bulletin board where he had drawn diagrams of both shooting sites. Beside the diagrams, he had listed the similarities and differences between the two incidents. She studied him with a practiced eye, noting the instability in his gait. He was pushing himself hard. "What good are you doing anyone?" she asked quietly.

He turned toward her, surprised to see her. His eyes filled with a rising panic. "Alex and Mike...?"

"They're doing okay."

"Is she awake?"

"No, not yet."

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. What could he possibly have been thinking? Since leaving the hospital, his anxiety level has skyrocketed. The worst thing he could have done was leave before he knew for certain his partner was all right. Try as he might to focus on the task at hand, his thoughts continued drifting and they always returned to the hospital and the fact that he had left before seeing her. His overwhelming need to find this sniper had diminished in the face of a deeper need: his partner. Forcing his eyes open, he stepped away from the wall, staggering slightly. "What are you doing here, Carolyn?"

"I came to stop you from killing yourself."

"Carolyn..."

"I'm done arguing with you, Bobby. You are going to stop and take a break before you really do yourself harm. You can come with me or you can go up to the crib for a few hours, but it's time to stop."

"I...I can't..."

"No, you _won't_. There's a difference. I give you another few hours at the most before you hit your brick wall, and then you're going to be done, for days, because you'll be in the hospital. You can't be thinking clearly right now, so you're just spinning your wheels anyway." She waved a hand at the board. "That's a illusion of clarity and you know it. Nothing is coming together because you aren't even close to your best. So...what's it going to be?"

He leaned back again, closing his eyes as he settled his head against the wall. He knew she was right. She'd been right back at the hospital. He never should have left but he felt useless just standing around. That helpless, useless feeling had not diminished. He felt her hand on his arm and he trembled. Slowly, with a great deal more effort than it should have taken, he forced his eyes open, meeting dark eyes that radiated concern. He didn't have it in him to go much further, and now he knew it. He had pushed himself hard, almost too hard. "Would you...take me back to the hospital?"

She looked confused. That was the last thing she would have expected from him. "Sure. You're going to let them admit you?"

"Hell, no. But I want to be there...when Alex wakes up. You're right, I'm not doing any good here. So I'll take a break and get some rest...and be there with her...I-I need to...be there with her..."

Slowly she nodded. It was a good suggestion. The bedside chairs weren't the most comfortable, but he could get enough rest to recover some of his strength. Once he stopped pushing himself, his body would call the shots and he would rest. "Come on. The sooner you settle down, the better."

Carruthers was waiting near his desk. Goren told him, "I'm going to take a break, Ethan. Go on home and get some rest. I'll meet you back here in the morning. If there's another shooting, call me. I'll be with Eames."

Csrruthers nodded. Of course he'd be with Eames. "All right, Bobby. I'll call if anything happens."

Barek smiled at him and mouthed 'thank you.' He nodded and returned her smile. Once they were gone, he closed up the conference room and headed for home.

* * *

_Eleven o'clock_. John Eames got up from the chair and stretched, glad he had sent his wife home with Kevin. He was about ready to head home himself, but he didn't want to leave Alex alone. Facing the bed as he watched Alex's face for any sign of waking, he was thinking about calling his sons, to see if one of them could come to sit with their sister, when he sensed someone in the doorway behind him. He turned, surprised to see Goren standing there, watching her laying in the bed. He looked even more haggard than he had in the waiting room. "You don't look well, son. Why don't you go home and get some rest?" 

Goren shook his head wearily. "I'd never wind down. I...came to sit by her. I'll rest here."

John nodded his head slowly. Maybe that was a better idea, with medical help nearby, just in case. Goren was wearing a white shirt and no jacket, and John could see the blood that was still seeping through his bandages and now beginning to soak the shirt. But he seemed oblivious to it. "You should let them look at your shoulder again, Bobby."

He waved a hand impatiently; he still had not taken his eyes from his fallen partner. "It's fine. Y-you can go home, if you need to, Mr. Eames. I'll take care of her."

John nodded again. "I have never had any doubt of that."

Bobby would always take care of his daughter, of that much he was sure. And Alex...even unconscious, she would take care of him. Sitting by her bedside, he would rest and begin to recover. John motioned him into the room. "Sit down, then. Before you fall down."

A slow smile touched Goren's lips. "I'm all right."

"You don't look it. Sit down."

Goren crossed the small room toward the bedside chair. John grabbed his arm when he faltered, but Goren gently waved him off. He dropped into the chair a little more heavily than he intended and he couldn't fully stifle a groan of pain. Reaching out, he touched Eames' hand, wrapping his fingers around it and marveling at her size. In their day to day lives, he never really thought of her as small. She carried herself with the bearing of a physically larger person, and it was easy to forget how petite she actually was. She was a big person living in a small body, and it was the big he always saw—the courage, the determination, the sheer force of will that enabled her to keep him in check when he needed it. Releasing her hand, he brought his fingers into contact with her cheek, and he whispered, "I am so sorry, Eames."

John watched him, struck by the tender way he treated her. And he realized why he was apologizing. "Bobby?"

Exhausted, bloodshot eyes turned toward him, surprised to find him still there. "Yes, Mr. Eames?"

"You have nothing to apologize for. You saved her life. Don't beat yourself up over something you could not have prevented. She'll be fine, and it's because of you that she will."

Goren nodded but remained unconvinced. John rested a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Think what you will, I will always be grateful to you for saving my girl's life. Good night, Bobby."

"Good night, Mr. Eames."

He watched the older man leave the room and returned his attention to Eames. He had fidgeted restlessly in the car the entire way to the hospital, and he knew he'd irritated Barek. He made a mental note to apologize to her later. Now sitting beside his partner, where he should have been all along, his body was still and quiet, and everything was careening downhill to slam into him and inundate him like an avalanche. He struggled against it as he continued to lightly stroke the side of her face. So still, so pale... He rested his forehead against her shoulder and let out a slow, staggered breath. Closing his hand firmly around hers once more, he finally stopped fighting and slept.

* * *

Barek waited until Goren stepped into Eames' room and she sighed with relief. He wouldn't leave now until she woke. He should never have left in the first place, but everything had combined to weigh so heavily on him, he had not been thinking straight. Returning to Logan's room, she slipped her hand into his as she sat. He stirred with a groan and opened his eyes, which were glazed with pain. Still he grinned at her. "Hey. I thought you were going home." 

"I changed my mind."

"A woman's prerogative."

"You got that right. Do you want me to get a nurse?"

"No. She just left to get some medicine. Did you get him to go home?"

"Are you serious? But he did come back up here."

"Oh, good. So when he finally gives out, there'll be doctors around to stand over him and wonder what happened."

She smiled. "He'll settle. He's with her and he's about at the end of his stamina. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better. I feel like someone's got a red-hot poker in my gut, but other than that, I don't guess I have too much to complain about. They got a line on the mutt who did this?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Alex been awake yet?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Was anyone else hit?"

"From Major Case? White, Rivera, Carson and Sanchez."

"So that's seven Major Case detectives notched on this guy's belt. How many total notches has he gotten so far?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't heard the numbers."

He snorted. "It'll be on the news. They always know more about our cases than we do."

She smiled at him. "I'm glad you're going to be all right, Mike."

"That's an accomplishment, since I wasn't all right to begin with."

She laughed lightly and settled into the chair beside his bed. "I'll get you a paper in the morning," she promised.

He was quiet for a moment. "Carolyn?"

"Yes, Mike?"

"Sorry you had to cut your trip short."

"It's fine. I missed you anyway."

"How long have I been here?"

"A couple of days. Everything is starting to blur together."

"And you've been sleeping in that chair?"

"Yes, I have."

"You love me that much, huh?"

"Well, I wanted to be close at hand to keep you in line."

He nodded with another grin. "I can accept that."

A nurse came into the room and gave Barek a smile. "I was glad to see you took a break," she commented.

_What a break_, Barek thought. "I just needed a little fresh air," she replied.

The nurse injected the medicine into Logan's IV line. "A few more days and they'll move Mike upstairs. The rooms are larger and more comfortable." She patted his hand. "There. Give that a few minutes and you'll be able to sleep again."

"Thanks." As the nurse left the room, he held out his hand to Barek. "I'm sorry to be such a pain in the ass," he muttered as the warmth of the medicine began to infiltrate his brain.

"If you weren't, then I'd worry," she teased.

He squeezed her hand and smiled as his eyes slid closed. For all his effort to appear better than he was, she knew he was recovering from a serious injury and he still had a way to go before he was well. She rose, kissed his forehead and walked down to Alex's room. Bobby's head rested against Alex's shoulder and he was holding firmly to her hand, even in his sleep. One of the nurses had covered him with a blanket. It was a touching sight, and she smiled. She also felt a deep sense of relief that he was sleeping at last, and he was close by. Tomorrow she would worry about getting him to let them look at his shoulder again. She returned to her place at Mike's side.


	15. Crash and Burn

Pain...Everywhere, there was pain...Slowly, it began to settle, focusing itself on the lower left side of her abdomen. With a groan, she forced herself awake. Her eyes scanned the small room and she tried to move, but there was pressure on her right shoulder keeping it down. Slowly, she turned her head and she couldn't help smiling. Carefully, she moved her left arm, bringing her hand into contact with his head. Only mildly surprised to find his hair damp with sweat, she was more surprised when he didn't waken at her touch. He did not sleep that heavily.

Her attention was drawn from him when someone entered the room. The nurse studied the monitor over the bed before looking at her. "Good morning," she said softly. "How do you feel?"

"Horrible," Eames answered honestly. "How long has he been here?"

A warm smile softened the nurse's kind face. "All night. Let me get some medicine to help with your pain. I'll be right back."

Eames nodded and returned her attention to the man sleeping against her shoulder. Another voice distracted her from him. "Hello, Alex."

She looked toward the door and smiled. "Hi, Carolyn. How is Mike?"

"He's a pain in the ass, that's how he is. I woke up to him arguing with his doctor. I think they're planning to transfer him upstairs this afternoon just to get him out of their hair." She approached the bed and laid a gentle hand on Goren's back. "He hasn't moved all night."

Eames didn't have the strength to give her voice volume, but the room was quiet and Barek heard her. "Why isn't he waking?" she whispered.

Barek answered, "When you were shot, he didn't handle it too well. He pushed himself way too hard, and compounded the injury he got the other day."

"Was he hit, too?"

Barek hesitated for a moment before she nodded. "Yes, he was. In the shoulder. And then he took three more hits in the back, shielding you from the gunfire. Thank God he was vested."

The nurse returned to the room, delivering the promised medicine. "There," she said, her voice quiet. "That will help with your pain, and it will help you to rest. Don't fight it."

"Thanks," Eames said.

She returned her attention to her partner as the nurse left, continuing to slowly move her fingers through damp curls. She looked at Barek, eyes questioning. "What else?"

"Alex, you have been through a lot. You need to rest and recover..."

"Tell me," she insisted.

Barek sighed. "He was afraid to talk to your parents."

"He was? Why? My parents love him..."

"He thought they would blame him for not taking care of you."

Realization dawned. "But he did," she whispered.

Barek nodded. "Yes, he did."

Eames turned her head to look at her partner, moving her hand down to stroke his cheek. "Oh, Bobby, you idiot."

With a soft groan, Eames turned onto her side and then she gasped softly. "Carolyn? Is this blood?"

Barek leaned over to take a look and her heart skipped a beat. "I would have thought he'd have stopped bleeding by now." She gently shook him. "Bobby, wake up."

He groaned softly and took a deep breath, which sent a shockwave of pain through his chest, eliciting another, deeper groan. Gradually, memory crept through the fog encompassing his brain and he sat up, eyes searching for his partner. When he saw her awake, relief washed over him like an ocean wave. "Eames..." he whispered.

Her eyes, however, were riveted to his shoulder and she reached a hand toward him to touch his bloody shirt. "You were hurt," she murmured.

He looked at her curiously, wondering how she could be more concerned for a minor wound when she had nearly died. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Barek said softly. "Bobby, it hasn't stopped bleeding. Something is wrong."

He looked down at his shoulder, surprised to see blood spreading down to his waist. "That's two shirts," he moaned.

Eames rested a hand on his cheek. "I'll take you shopping if you let them take another look at it," she offered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I'd rather stay here by you," he said, pressing his cheek into her hand..

"You're going to have the room next door if you don't get it looked at."

That earned her a confused look, and she became increasingly concerned. She shifted tactics. "Bobby, my mother will be here soon..."

Barek saw that she was tiring rapidly and she understood what she was trying to say. "Do you want to alarm her?"

He couldn't shake the fog in his head and he only heard half of what they'd told him. "Alarm who?" he wondered.

Barek looked at Eames. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he had too much to drink."

Eames nodded weakly. "It would be funny if it wasn't so serious."

"Come on, Bobby," Barek said as she gently tugged his arm. He got to his feet and took one step toward her. The fog got thicker and the room began to spin wildly. As it spun, it tilted to the left. He took one more uncertain step and everything went black.

* * *

Logan watched through his doorway as a doctor and three nurses ran past his room. His gut clenched. In the ICU, that could only mean one thing. Someone wasn't doing well. He hated being in intensive care and he couldn't wait to get moved upstairs. Too many people died down there. It was depressing. 

Barek came into the room, her face pale. "Mike, I have to go to the emergency room for a little while. Can you behave?"

"I'll be fine. What's wrong?"

"Bobby just collapsed and Alex asked me to go along with him for her. They sedated her so she'll be out for a while."

"I told you he didn't look so good."

"He looked even worse when he woke up. His shoulder bled all night long."

"Looks like we're gonna be roomies."

"Over my dead body. Behave. I'll be back in a little bit."

They let her remain outside the trauma room while they worked on him. The doctor who had originally taken care of his shoulder was on duty and remembered her. She paced nervously outside the room, waiting for someone to emerge. Finally, a nurse poked her head out of the room. "Would you mind coming in here, please? He's starting to come around and the doctor would like you in here."

She nodded and followed her into the room. The day before he had been in one of the curtained cubicles. Now he was in a room. The doctor was working on his shoulder. He looked at her. "I do not want to sedate him yet. We just got his labs back, and he's lost a lot of blood. When was the last time he's eaten?"

"I have no idea."

"He could use a decent meal."

"Are you going to admit him?"

"I would love to, but something tells me he will refuse again."

"And you can't force him?"

"Unfortunately, no. Unless we put him under a 72-hour psychiatric hold, and I don't have the grounds for that. Stupidity is not a psychiatric disorder."

She snorted. "It should be. Do you know why he kept bleeding?"

"When he was struggling against us yesterday, he apparently tore the sutures I placed. I debated having a surgeon look at it, but after irrigating it and getting a good look, I don't think he needs the stress of a surgical procedure. I re-sutured it with a different grade of sutures and it looks like the bleeding has stopped. Once this bag of saline is finished I'll discharge him, but he needs to slow down."

"How bad was his blood loss?"

"Bad enough but not critical. He doesn't need blood, but he came close." He looked at her. "Didn't he notice the bleeding?"

"We noticed some seepage, and I was planning to convince him to let someone look at it this morning."

"Where has he been?"

"He fell asleep at his partner's bedside and I left him there. He was nearly at the point of collapse from exhaustion, and I figured he needed sleep."

"He probably did. Like I said, he needs to slow down and let his body recuperate."

"I don't see that happening until they have the man who did this in custody."

The doctor studied him for a moment. "See what you can do."

"I'll do the best I can, but no promises."

Their attention was drawn to the bed when Goren groaned and began moving. Barek stepped up to his side and softly spoke to him, and he settled. Slowly, he opened his eyes and examined his surroundings. He groaned, "Not again..."

Barek smiled at him. "Thank you so much for that shot of adrenaline first thing in the morning. Now I don't need coffee."

A weak smile ghosted across his face. "Alex?"

"She's doing okay. They gave her a mild sedative because she panicked when you collapsed. They expect her to wake up again soon."

"And Mike?"

"Better than they expected. He'll be transferred to a regular ward soon. And I'm getting ready to smack him if he doesn't quit arguing with his doctors." She studied him. "How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?"

"Like crap."

"I feel worse."

"Are you ready to slow down now?"

"I-I can't. I have to..."

"No, you don't. Ethan is working on it with Captain Ross, and they're helping the Two-Seven. You can afford to sit by Alex's bed for a few hours and get back some of your strength. Ethan promised me he'd keep you informed if you stay put for 12 hours. Then you can go in and review everything he has."

She watched his face and she knew he was thinking of an argument. She leaned closer so that her face was inches from his. "You are not going to talk me out of it, so don't try. Alex either. Twelve hours."

He studied her face and after an additional struggle, he slowly nodded. "Twelve hours. Not a minute more."

"Deal."

She kissed his nose and he smiled. Once the bag of saline was finished, he walked back to Intensive Care with her. Eames had just woken, and her parents had not yet arrived. She watched him come into the room and she smiled weakly. "Hey," she gently chided. "That was dramatic."

"Sorry. I...I didn't mean..."

"Shh...just come over here and sit down."

He lowered himself into the chair beside her bed and slid his hand into hers. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I've been shot. I think I prefer tossing you against walls to this."

A small smile touched his mouth. "I know I prefer it." Leaning closer, he softly kissed her. "I...I'm sorry...I let you down..."

She was confused. "Maybe it's the drugs, but how did you let me down?"

"I...I let you get shot..."

He fell silent at the look of rebuke on her face. "Don't you go there. I heard about what you did. If I hear one more word of apology from you—to me, to my parents, or to anyone else, I'll smack the crap out of you, do you understand me?"

"I..."

"I mean it, Bobby. Not one word. Or I won't talk to you until they discharge me."

"But..."

She felt badly at the look on his face, but she had to get through to him one way or another. Sometimes he responded to gentle cajoling. Sometimes he needed to be strong-armed. This was the only way she could strong-arm him at the moment and she was taking advantage of it. "Promise me."

Slowly, he conceded. "All right, Eames. I promise."

"I'm going to be okay, and it's because of you I will. Now I want you to take care of yourself, too, so I have something to look forward to when I get out of here."

His brain was still not working right and he didn't catch her meaning. "I..." She trailed a finger along his arm, her eyes half-closed. "Okay," he finally agreed.

She smiled warmly and squeezed his hand. "Never go," she whispered.

"Not a chance," he murmured in reply.

Leaning over, he softly kissed her. Then he leaned back in the chair without relinquishing her hand. When her parents arrived a half hour later, both of them were sleeping.


	16. A Gruesome Discovery

It was midafternoon when Goren woke to the sound of soft voices that he recognized. Eames' voice was still weak but it was steady. He moved and could not suppress a groan when pain shot up his back and through his shoulder. The hand that still held his tightened and he eased his eyes open. John and Mary Eames watched him with concerned eyes. Their concern was mirrored in his partner's face. "How do you feel?" she asked.

He searched her face, seeking reassurance that she was improving, though it had only been a few hours since she had woken from her surgery. He saw pain, which was to be expected, and he saw concern, which also did not surprise him. "I-I'm okay," he answered. "How are you?"

"I feel a little better. They moved Logan upstairs about an hour ago. He's in room 528. He wants you to stop by to see him before you leave."

He nodded, glancing at the time before shifting his eyes toward John and Mary. John gave him a smile as Mary stepped around the bed to his side. Leaning down, she kissed his cheek. "You look better," she said.

He gently squeezed her arm when she bent over and he gave her a soft smile. "I'll be fine," he assured her.

"You need to take care of yourself," she gently chided.

Eames smiled when a light flush colored his cheeks as he nodded at her. She loved to see her mother, well, mothering her partner. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and released it. "I, um, I need to make a phone call."

"Bobby..."

He met her eyes and she sighed softly, nodding. "Go on," she said.

He touched her cheek and got to his feet, stopping when the pain flared. The medicine he'd been given in the emergency room had long worn off and he hadn't filled the prescription they'd given him. Eames reached out and touched his arm. He looked toward her, and there was no missing the pain that was bright in his eyes. She motioned toward the bedside stand. "Right there, Bobby. Carolyn got your prescription filled."

He turned carefully and grabbed the bottle, reading the label. He nodded. John reached out to pour a cup of water for him from the pitcher on the tray table. He handed it to his wife, who gave it to Goren. Eames smiled at how uncomfortable he looked. He had always hated when anyone fussed over him, including her. He murmured a shy 'thank you' and dumped two tablets into his hand, swallowing them with the water. Mary took the cup from him when he finished and he looked back at his partner, who gave him another smile. "I'll be back," he promised.

She nodded and watched him leave the room. Just watching him move she knew he was in pain, but getting him to slow down for more than a few hours was a huge challenge. Barek had told her he promised twelve hours, but in reality, they both knew they would be lucky to get six, which was about how long it had been. Aside from the pain he was obviously in, though, he did look much better than he had that morning. His color had improved and so had his clarity of mind. That, at least, was something, and she wasn't quite as concerned as she had been. She continued talking to her parents as she waited for him to return.

* * *

Logan was sitting up in bed, an annoyed look on his face, when Goren came into the room. "What pissed you off?" Goren asked.

"Just about everything. Two weeks! Two damn weeks, they said, before I can get out of here--if I behave! What's that supposed to mean? The nurses keep poking and prodding me. They won't let me eat anything more than jello but they expect me to get up out of bed and prance up and down the hall."

"First of all, I seriously doubt you're doing much prancing. Secondly, you got shot in the gut, Mike. You really don't want to push the food. Give it time to heal."

Logan studied him. "How do you feel? I heard you gave the girls some excitement this morning."

"That wasn't intentional."

"I told you that you were gonna hit that floor hard, didn't I? You feeling better?"

He nodded. "A lot. Uh, where's Carolyn?"

"She went downstairs to grab a bite to eat, so she won't be eating in front of me. She's afraid I'll try to snatch a bite of something."

"She's right."

"I know. That's why she's downstairs."

Goren grinned at him. "I'm glad you're getting better, Mike."

"I have you to thank that I'm here at all. I, um, I found out what you did for me. I can't say I could have done the same, so thanks."

Goren just gave him a brief nod, and it was over. Neither man would mention it again. "I was on my way to make a call. I'm glad you're feeling better."

Logan nodded. "I am. It still hurts like hell, but it's improving." With an eye that had become used to gauging Goren's state of mind, he studied his friend. "Can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"Don't drive yourself into the ground. I have no doubt we'll get this guy, but it's not gonna be worth it if you kill yourself doing it. If nothing else, think of your partner. She's got you all broken in just right. Don't make her break in another partner."

The grim look on Goren's face told him he'd made his point. "I'll...try. I'll be back, probably tomorrow."

"I told Carolyn there was no way you'd hang around doing nothing for half a day."

Goren tapped Logan's arm with the back of his hand and then headed for the door. Logan watched him leave, not convinced he was as all right as he said. But there was nothing he could do, except get well. By the time he was discharged, either the shooter who had taken him and Eames down would be in custody, or Goren would have driven himself to an early grave trying to find him. Without Eames to rein him in, there was no telling what would happen. And that worried him.

* * *

Goren stepped outside the hospital doors and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Carruthers' cell number and waited for him to answer. "Hi, Ethan," he said when the other detective answered. "What's going on?"

There was a moment of silence before he answered, _Uh...I'm not at my desk right now, Bobby. Can I call you back?_

"What's going on?"

_Um, at the moment..._

"Ethan..."

Carruthers let out a heavy sigh. _There was another shooting. I'm at the scene now._

"Where?"

_Bobby, if the captain finds out I told you..._

"Is the media on scene?"

_Well, yeah..._

"So, I saw it on a newsbreak. Where are you?"

_Washington Square Park._

"I'll be there shortly."

_See you then._

Goren closed the phone and started heading away from the hospital. Then he stopped, reluctant to cause his partner more worry than was necessary. He didn't want to pull a vanishing act. So he headed back to the intensive care unit.

She was alone..She had turned onto her injured side and curled around her injury in an attempt to mitigate her pain. He approached the bed, easing himself down into the chair beside it. With his free hand, he gently brushed her hair back, searching her face as her eyes opened and she looked at him. She gave him a small smile. "I'm trying to find a position that doesn't hurt quite so much. So far, this is it."

"I...I'm heading out. I'll be back."

She knew she wouldn't be able to convince him to stay. She reached up and grabbed his hand. "Please, be careful."

He nodded, leaning closer to give her a soft kiss. "Try to rest," he whispered. "I'll see you later."

She held tight to his hand for a moment longer. Finally, she released him, giving him silent permission to leave. Another gentle kiss pressed to her temple and he was gone.

* * *

Washington Square Park was awash with cops. Goren found his temporary partner without difficulty. Carruthers gave him a grin. "I see you haven't been home," he commented, noting the hospital scrub shirt Goren wore in place of the bloody shirt they'd removed when he'd collapsed that morning.

"Not yet. What happened?"

"Same story. Murder vic was found and once the scene was populated by our guys, the shots began."

"How many were hit?"

"Four, I think. None too badly. We came closer this time, I think. We headed off down that way, where the shots came from, and one of the guys thought he saw someone come out of a building carrying some kind of case. Whoever it was, he turned down an alley and disappeared. Two uniforms got to the alley a minute later and it was empty. But we found the apartment he used."

"Let's go check it out."

Carruthers was glad to get away from the scene before the captain...

"Goren! Carruthers!"

"Shit," Carruthers muttered under his breath as they turned to face the captain.

Ross approached them, his eyes focused on Goren. "What are you doing here, detective?"

"My job."

"I thought you were at the hospital."

"I was."

"So why are you here?"

"The last time I checked this was still my case."

Ross considered him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm...better."

"How is Eames?"

"She's all right."

"And Logan?"

"Out of intensive care."

Ross nodded. "I am going to make myself very clear here, detective. If I think, even for a moment, that you are unfit, I will remove you from this case. So watch yourself. Get the rest you need and stop to eat once in awhile. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are you going now?"

"I want to see the shooter's nest."

Ross nodded and the two detectives headed away from him.

* * *

Crime scene techs were already processing the empty apartment when they got there. One of the techs approached them. Goren nodded at him. "Anything turn up, Matt?"

"How are Eames and Logan?"

"They're both doing all right. What have you got?"

"We've got all the same things we've found before. Over there by that window, the one that overlooks the park, we found the same caliber shell casings that we found before, along with pistachio shells."

Goren raised an eyebrow. "Pistachios? You mean the nuts? I haven't heard anything about that."

"It's in the reports. Did you get them?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"I'll get another copy forwarded to you."

"What else do you have?"

"Not too much. We..."

"Hey, Matt! Take a look at this!"

The detectives following him to a far corner of the room, where a small wastebasket was sitting. Matt looked into the basket, then looked at Goren, who took a look. A soda can sat in the bottom of the container, its rim blackened. Carruthers frowned. "Tobacco?"

Goren nodded as they watched the techs bag and tag the can. "Looks like our guy is a chewer. And he's either getting careless or he's getting cocky."

"Bingo!" called another tech from the kitchen.

They went over to where he was working by the refrigerator. He grinned at them. "Looks like he was here for awhile. There's half a loaf of bread, a package of ham, cheese, mustard, two cans of soda...and a partial here on the counter."

Before anyone could say anything more, a third tech called to them. He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his face pale. "Um, that vic down in the park. Was he cut up at all?"

"No," Carruthers answered. "He'd been stabbed, but he wasn't butchered. Why?"

"In the bathroom...the tub..."

They went into the bathroom and looked into the tub, which was covered with blood. Amid all the blood, sitting near the drain, was a human heart.


	17. Stake Out

Goren sat at the conference room table, head propped on his hand, half a pastrami sandwich sitting on the table at his elbow next to a half-empty coffee cup. Intently, he studied the pictures he'd put up on the bulletin board of the three crime scenes. A couple in Central Park...a female victim in Battery Park...a male victim in Washington Square Park...but what really threw him was the present the perp had left for them in his nest. That was a piece that just did not fit anywhere in the puzzle. Was the perp escalating, thumbing his nose at them and daring them to find him? That was his impression. The guy wasn't getting careless; he was gaining confidence. All they had to do was find a way to burst his bubble and trip him up.

His eyes strayed to the map he had set up. Three red thumbtacks marked each scene. There was no such thing as randomness in serial killing. Obvious or hidden, there were patterns. There was likewise no such thing as coincidence. Deliberate or unintentional, there was motive.

He rubbed his fingers across his mouth. Central Park...Battery Park...Washington Square Park...north...south...west...

The door opened and Carruthers came into the room. He dropped a couple of files on the table. Goren didn't look at him. "Any match on the partial?"

"Sure. About four thousand of them."

He nodded. Not unexpected. "And the tobacco juice?"

"They're trying to isolate DNA from the saliva. It's a good possibility."

"If our guy has any DNA on file. Are they trying to get prints from the food packages and the soda cans?"

"Nothing on the cans. They're using super glue vapors to see if there's anything on the packages."

Goren nodded, still studying the pictures and the map. "Central Park," he murmured. "It's a big park at the north end of the island. Battery Park, a fairly large park at the southern end of the island. Washington Square Park, a much smaller park on the west side. What does that tell you, Ethan?"

Carruthers studied the map. "Maybe he'll head east for his next hit?"

Goren nodded. "That's what I'm thinking." He pointed toward the map. "Corlears Hook Park. East River Park. Hamilton Fish Park. Seward Park. Tompkins Square Park..."

He trailed off. Carruthers watched him, curious. He'd only ever watched Goren work a case from a distance. Working with him, watching the brilliant cop at work close up, even if he wasn't at the top of his game at the moment, was fascinating. "What are you thinking?"

Goren looked at him blankly for a moment. He was used to Eames, who was able to follow his train of thought without him needing to backtrack and explain. Carruthers' question tripped him up and his mind stumbled. "Uh..." He got it quickly back on track. "The parks...he'll target another park. We need to stake out those parks." He pointed toward the map. "You and I will take Tompkins Square Park."

"Are you sure about this?"

Goren gave it some thought before he answered, "Yes."

Eames trusted his leaps of logic without explanation, but she had learned from experience to do that. He wasn't so sure Carruthers would be as trusting, but he couldn't get any more specific than that at the moment. His gut told him this was right, and he had learned to trust his gut feelings a long time ago. "When?" Carruthers asked.

Goren looked at him. No further questions, no demands for explanations...just..._when_? "You...you trust me?"

Carruthers grinned and shrugged one shoulder. "Eames does."

Yes, she did. Goren slowly nodded his head. Even when she wasn't there, she was taking care of him. "Some time within the next twenty-four hours."

"Let's go talk to Ross. If we get the stake outs set up in time, we can nail him when he leaves the body, before he climbs into his nest, starts picking off cops and then vanishes."

Goren stood up a little too quickly. White-hot and angry, pain shot across his back again, tightening a band of fire around his chest severe enough to drop him to his knees with a gasp. The room faded for a moment, but he didn't fully black out. Carruthers was at his side right away, grabbing his uninjured arm and offering support as he slowly got back to his feet. "Sorry," he murmured, embarrassed.

"For what? Getting shot? Don't apologize. Are you all right?"

He nodded. "Remind me to get up slowly next time."

"Sure. You feel up to talking to Ross?"

"I'm fine now. Let's go."

Ross looked up as the two detectives stopped in the doorway to his office. He studied them for a moment. "Did you eat, Goren?"

"Yes, sir."

Ross nodded. "Do you have an update for me?"

Carruthers answered, "Captain, we think this mutt is going to strike in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. We want to stake out the east side parks: Corlears Hook Park, East River Park, Hamilton Fish Park, Seward Park, and Tompkins Square Park "

Ross looked from one man to the other. "And this assumption is based on?"

Goren looked away, not knowing how receptive the captain would be to a gut instinct, particularly coming from him. Without hesitation, though, Carruthers answered, "It follows the pattern he's set, captain. Based on the evidence left at the last scene, we think he's already killed his next victim. We've wasted enough time. Let's get on the ball and stake out the parks." He nodded at Goren. "We'll take Tompkins Square Park."

Ross took stock of both men with an observant eye. Carruthers seemed anxious, though in a positive way, eager to close in on their suspect and nab him. Goren still seemed to be on the edge, physically and emotionally. "Your partner called," he said gently. "It seems she doesn't fully trust your reassurances that you're all right."

Suspicion flashed in Goren's eyes. "What did you tell her?"

"Only the truth. I told her we're keeping an eye on you, that you were okay. I didn't lie to your partner, did I, detective?"

"No, captain."

His eyes shifted toward Carruthers for confirmation, and the man nodded agreement. Ross asked, "What have you eaten?"

"I had a sandwich," Goren replied with a frown. "We're wasting time..."

Ignoring his detective's protest, Ross looked back at Carruthers. "I'll authorize the stake outs," he said. "Get going and I'll get the other teams assigned. But you stop and get food on the way." Dark eyes shifted back to Goren. "Get something real into you or I'll tell your partner how you really look. Have you taken what they gave you for pain?"

Goren shook his head. "If there's any chance I might have to use my weapon, I want a clear head."

"Just how clear is your head?"

Goren bristled. "Clear enough that I won't accidentally shoot some kid instead of our perp."

Ross nodded understanding. "All right, gentlemen. Get going and be careful. I don't have to remind you to vest up, do I?"

When the men shook their heads, he pointed at Goren. "Get a new vest before you leave this squad room."

"I know procedure," he protested.

"And I know just how much that means to you, detective," he retorted. "Get a vest."

Goren allowed himself a small smile before following Carruthers from the room.

* * *

Carruthers set his empty styrofoam box in the back seat beside his partner's, and he looked at Goren as he took a drink of his coffee. With his own coffee cup resting virtually untouched in his hands on his lap, Goren was unaware of Carruthers' scrutiny until the other man said, "Are you still feeling all right?" 

Caught off guard by the question, Goren looked at him. Truth be told, he wasn't feeling all right at all, but he was functioning. And he would continue to push himself until they either got their man or he collapsed again. At the moment, it was a toss-up as to which it would be.

Without answering he turned his attention back to the park. Ross had been right about the pain medicine. Fighting the intense pain in his back and shoulder was wearing him down. But he was not going to put a weapon in his hand with any of that medication on board. Then he would be useless as a backup for his partner. That was an unacceptable scenario. It was one of the hard-fast, black and white rules of his life; you never failed to backup your partner. Ever. And guilt still ate at him because he felt he had failed Eames.

He was about to say something to Carruthers when his eyes caught a movement across the park. He pointed, and Carruthers followed his gaze. "Let's check it out," Carruthers murmured.

Silently slipping from the vehicle, the two cops drew their weapons, slipped off the safeties and headed into the park.


	18. Stand Off

The darkness was penetrated by the park's lighting, but the two cops kept as much to the shadows as they could as they hurried toward the moving shadows near the north end of the park. Carruthers spoke softly into the microphone at his wrist, advising the other surveillance units at the park that they were investigating suspicious activity near the park offices and the Slocum Memorial Fountain.

In the quiet of the night, they heard voices as they approached the park office building. "Come on, Tad! Pick up your end and keep it up."

"I..I don't like this, Butch. I don't like this at all."

"Quit being a baby. Set it down here, near the fountain. It'll be found quicker."

Goren stared at the two men who set down their burden. _Men_... He looked at Carruthers, saw the same surprise reflected in his face. These weren't men. They were boys. This just got worse and worse. Goren motioned to his partner, who nodded and spoke softly into his wrist mike again. Holding his gun steady, Goren stepped from the shadows, approaching the two young men who were busy arranging the body on the ground between them,

In silence he watched as they positioned the body in the same layout as the previous bodies. He pointed toward the torso. "Uh, that left arm should be closer to the head," he said quietly.

"Oh, right, thanks..."

The bigger of the two teens froze, spinning around to face the man who'd spoken. He was a big man, wearing a white shirt beneath a black vest and he had a gun trained on them. He saw the gold badge clipped to the man's belt and he saw red. "Cop," he sneered.

The other young man stood back and watched with frightened eyes. Goren's eyes shifted to the body on the ground, its chest a bloody mess. "That heart you left for us..."

Butch laughed and the sound penetrated Goren to the core. "A little memento to let you know how _heartfelt_ our actions are."

"I'm assuming you found a good vantage point in the office building," Goren said, gesturing behind him.

Butch remained silent, watching him. Goren was buying time for the other officers to get in place surrounding them. "The rifle...each time you put it together in your nest, opened fire, and in the confusion, broke it down, stuffed it into a gym bag and just walked away because you knew we weren't looking for a kid."

Butch's eyes narrowed. "It was so easy."

It was getting harder and harder for Goren to present the illusion of steadiness. Sweat rolled down both sides of his face and he was finding it more difficult to ignore the pain in his back, which worsened steadily with each breath. Sitting for so long in one place hadn't helped him any. He heard the bushes rustle behind him as Carruthers stepped forward, his gun also trained on the two young men.

Butch saw the second cop, not as tall and broad as the first, but just as dangerous. In his mind, every cop was dangerous. Put a gun in the hand of a man with power and you created a monster. Butch glared at the two cops. Knowing Carruthers had his back, Goren slid his weapon into its holster and stepped closer to the two teens. "Why?" he asked. "What drove you to this?"

Butch moved suddenly. He shoved Tad hard out of the way and spun to the left, pulling a pistol from his belt as he moved. Diving to the ground, he opened fire on the two cops who faced him.

Carruthers slammed his shoulder into Goren as soon as he saw the gun in Butch's hand. They both hit the ground and Carruthers scrambled for cover, fully aware of two things. He was not the only one returning fire, and his partner was not moving.

Butch sought cover behind the Slocum memorial, which commemorated the loss of life by accidental fire on the steamboat _General Slocum_ on the East River in 1904. He fired into the night, unable to locate his targets. Tad crawled to his side and cowered in the shadows on the back side of the fountain, softly whimpering. "Quit crying, Tad," Butch snapped. "Before I shoot _you_!"

Carruthers brought his mike to his mouth and said, "Get a bus underway. We have at least one officer down."

Sweat beaded across his forehead as he became aware of a burning pain in his thigh. Looking down, he watched blood seep onto his pants from a bullet wound about six inches down from his hip. Setting his gun on the ground beside him, he pulled off his belt and tightened it around his thigh above the injury. Now it was throbbing. Turning over, he lifted his weapon and crawled forward to bring the fountain into view.

He looked toward the still form of his partner and swallowed a lump in his throat. Eames was going to kill him, particularly if it was his tackle that had taken Goren out. He crawled forward and eyed the fountain from the tree he was behind. How the hell long could it take to surround this kid? "Don't be stupid, kid," he called. "Throw down your weapon and come out with your hands up!"

"So you can shoot me? I know how you work!"

"We have you surrounded. Lay down your weapon!"

He knew it was only a matter of time before this kid, this cop killer, was in a sharpshooter's sights. If they took him out, they would never get any answers. Carruthers saw Goren move and knew that if he was disoriented and got to his feet, that kid would finish the job he started the night Logan was shot.

Taking a chance, Carruthers belly-crawled to Goren's side. "Lay still, Bobby. The paramedics are on the way."

Memories flooded past the pain. "Tell them...to hold their fire."

Carruthers hesitated for a second before he did as Goren asked, and the sound of gunfire echoing through the night fell silent. Goren used his remaining strength to roll onto his stomach, raising his head to look toward the fountain, and to put volume behind his voice. "Butch," he addressed the older teen. "Just tell me why. I want to know why...you chose this path."

"I spent years...figuring it out...planning it..."

"I can tell. You had us..."

"But you figured us out?"

"A...A lucky guess."

Goren was breathing hard, sweating more. Carruthers knew this was his brick wall. His body was giving up, refusing to be pushed any further. His partner had reached the end of his limit. He heard the sirens in the distance, and knew Goren did, too.

"This can't turn out well for you, Butch," Goren called. "At least...think of your brother..."

Silence, then, "How did you know...?"

"That he's your brother? Come on. What smart guy would enlist the help of a little kid? But you couldn't leave him home. There's no one home to keep an eye on him. So you...had to bring him along." Carruthers watched Goren roll onto his back, looking up toward the sky, but he continued talking while impatient, angry cops waited all around them. Somewhere close by he heard Ross' voice. _Great...talk faster, Bobby,_ he thought.

"You're being a good brother...you've always taken care of him..."

"Always. We got no one else."

"But he never...used the gun...did he?"

"Are you kidding, cop? He's just a little kid. He doesn't remember... No, I was the one who shot all those cops."

"Why?"

"Because that's what cops did to me, to my parents, to everyone I knew. Cops got me and Tad sent here to New York, away from home, after they killed our parents."

Goren swallowed. He was running out of time and the men around him were running out of patience. Somewhere to his left, he heard his captain's voice, stern, issuing orders to remain in a cease fire. He slowly rolled onto his stomach. "Butch, I'm going to come out into the open. I have my people holding their fire. Can I trust you to hold yours?"

_What the hell is he doing?_ Ross' voice hissed. _Goren!_

Goren ignored him. "Well?"

"You got five minutes, cop. I won't shoot for five minutes."

"Bobby..." Carruthers started, but Goren waved him off and struggled to his feet. By sheer will alone, he stepped forward. He held his hands out from his sides, in clear view. "No gun, Butch."

Butch eyes the big cop, noted his unsteadiness. Even at that distance, he could tell something was wrong with the man. But he kept his word and let him talk. "So what do you want?"

"I want to hear what you have to say. Tell me where this anger came from."

"It came from Texas, cop. My parents died...at the Alamo!"

He laughed. Beside him Tad was confused. "I thought they died in Waco, Butch."

"Shut up, Tad!"

_Waco..._ "Mount Carmel..." Goren said. "Your parents died in the Mount Carmel compound...the Branch-Davidian compound...in 1993..."

"Yeah...they got killed by cops...I remember listening to the gunfire...and seeing the flames...and hearing the screams when my mother died...Tad and I got snuck out...and we ended up here...but I never forgot..."

"So all you've had is your brother..."

"Yeah."

"You've protected him all these years...protected him from the memories, protected him from the world...I get that." He moved forward a few more steps, bringing himself into the circle fire. He heard Ross' voice, angry, but couldn't make out what he said. He didn't try. His remaining energy was focused on this kid, on saving his life. It wasn't his job to judge whether he deserved it or not. "I would have done the same thing...taken care of my little brother. But what's he gonna do without you, Butch?" He waved his hand in a sweeping circle that nearly knocked him over. "When these men open fire, and take you out, what's gonna happen to Tad?"

Silence. Goren stumbled three steps to the left, bringing Butch and his brother into his line of vision. The older teen was staring at his brother. "As long as I'm standing here, they won't fire," Goren assured him. He pointed toward the rooftops and added, "But I can guarantee there are sharpshooters on those rooftops, waiting for the word to take you out. You're out of time, Butch. You have to choose...now. Put the gun down and save your brother's life. Take care of him, the way you have over these last fourteen years. Make your mother proud."

He moved a few more unsteady steps closer. Butch leaned back against the marble fountain and sobbed, sliding down to the ground beside Tad. Goren moved his hand to signal his partner, who came forward and grabbed the gun from Butch's hands. More officers surged forward to take the two teens into custody.

Goren dropped his head forward, chin to his chest. He heard Ross' voice, clear and close by, talking to him, but he lacked the energy to listen or to respond. He felt his knees give way, and he remembered nothing more.


	19. Bringing Them Together

Eames was sitting up in her bed. Her pain was well-controlled by medication and she was feeling better. They were planning to transfer her to the post-surgical floor later that morning, to a room just down the hall from Logan's. There she would have access to a phone, and she would feel better about letting Goren out of her sight. She'd been reassured the day before that he looked better when he left, but there was no guarantee he'd paced himself through the night so that he would continue to improve. In fact, she was willing to bet money that when he came to visit later in the day, he would once again look exhausted. She knew she'd never get twelve hours out of him, but she was game to try for six.

Just after breakfast, which, for her, consisted of weak tea and chicken broth, she had a visitor. She was expecting her parents, hoping for her partner, and was surprised to see her captain. He looked tired, as though he had not slept at all the night before. "Captain?"

"How are you feeling today, Eames?"

"I'm feeling better. What happened?"

Her cop's gut instinct told her something had gone down, and seeing a weary Ross in her hospital room doorway did not bode well. He sighed. "Your partner is...unorthodox. Just when I think I have one aspect of him figured out, he blasts off on another tangent and I feel like I'm back at the starting gate."

"You get used to him."

"Every cop in the city was after blood, Eames. Every cop in the city wanted this shooter's head on a platter. And what does your partner do? He steps in the middle of a potential firestorm and talks the guy into giving himself up. And why? Because it's not a guy at all. It's a seventeen year old kid and his fifteen year old brother. My oldest son is fifteen." He shook his head. "Half the department understands why he stepped in to save the kids' lives. The other half is pissed as hell for the same reason. Everything Goren does seems to stir controversy."

"He has a strong set of ethics, Captain. And he doesn't compromise them for anyone."

"So I'm learning. So he talks this kid into surrendering, and that was it for him. He reached the end of his rope and damn near hung himself. By the time the paramedics got to him, he was barely breathing. They pumped him full of stimulants to keep his heart going until he recovered enough to be all right. That was seven hours ago. They just transferred him upstairs, and I convinced them to put him in with Logan, so we can watch them both. Please tell me that wasn't a mistake."

"They'll watch out for each other, and Barek's right there. She'll keep them in line."

"The doctors don't trust him. He walked out on them twice, and they are taking no chances he'll do it again. They're keeping him sedated until they're more comfortable with his condition."

Eames frowned. "That's not necessary, Captain. He's not going anywhere. The sniper is in custody now. There's no reason for him to walk out."

"I don't call the shots here, Eames. The doctors do."

"That's not fair. I want to see him."

"I told your doctor you would say that. He said not right now. They want to get you transferred upstairs and settled first. Goren's not going anywhere, I promise you that. Don't give the doctors a problem, please. Goren and Logan give me enough of a headache. Now I'm going home to bed. I'll be back later. Listen to your doctor."

She watched the captain leave and settled back, angry. Who did they think they were—who did anyone think they were—to tell her she could not see her partner? They didn't understand. This wasn't an option. She had to see Goren.

* * *

The fire in his body was gone, replaced by a haze that blanketed his mind and wrapped his body in a cocoon, muffling the pain that demanded to come in from someplace just beyond his awareness. His eyes fluttered open. The lights were dim. He moved, and the pain came rushing in, forcing a groan to form deep in his chest. It rumbled forward and escaped from his throat before he could stop it. 

"You awake over there?"

Over there? Where was he? The voice was familiar. "Logan..."

"Hey, buddy. Captain Ross had them put us in the same room, so it'll be easier to keep an eye on us."

He waited for the pain to retreat once more beyond the haze. "Wh-what happened?"

"You beat the hell out of your body, that's what. You pushed yourself way too hard. There was nothing left by the time you collapsed in the park. You scared everyone, pal."

"Eames?"

"She's doing better...especially now that she knows exactly where your stupid ass is at. She's pissed as hell that they won't let her come down the hall here to see you, though."

"I...want to see her..."

"I told them they were making a big mistake. You've been here for two days, and they're finally backing off on the sedation a little."

"S-sedation? Is that why...?"

"Why you feel like your head's wrapped in cotton? Yeah. I think they're tired of you running in and out of the ER like it's got a revolving door. Short of sending a team of paramedics to shadow you, this is what they decided they had to do until you've recovered enough to stay on your feet. They don't want you taking off again."

"I..." He frowned. "I'm not leaving."

"I know that, but they won't listen to any of us." He sighed. "You kept your word and you got the guy that did this. I know at least a couple of guys who were pissed they didn't get to make Swiss cheese out of a cop killer, but you did good. Ross is almost happy."

"That's an improvement."

"It sure is." He strained in the dim light to see across the room. "How do you feel?"

"Very tired," he said softly.

"Then go ahead and sleep. You earned it."

All he had to do was close his eyes, and sleep welcomed him again.

* * *

Eames didn't take well to being told she couldn't see Goren. The doctors assured her that he was recovering, likening his body's energy stores to a battery that was almost entirely depleted when they'd brought him in. It would take time to recharge, but he would be fine. 

Every time they asked her if they could get her something, she asked to see Goren. They still told her no. So the day after her transfer to the post-surgical floor, when they wanted to get her out of bed and moving, she told them no. She would get up only if they let her walk down the hall to the room Goren shared with Logan, where he continued to recover under sedation. She told them there was no need for the sedation, and as his medical proxy, she wanted it stopped. She would not rest easy, and she would not cooperate, until they let her see him. Even her parents advocated for her. But the doctors remained unmoved. Until he was brought out from under sedation, they would not let her see him. They did not want to hinder her recovery, unaware that it was exactly what they were doing in keeping them apart.

Logan wasn't quite sure what was going on in the minds of the medical staff, and naturally no one would discuss it with him. Hell, they wouldn't even discuss it with Eames, and she was the guy's medical proxy. He hated that they refused to let him wake up completely. He'd had a few disjointed conversations with him, and his biggest concern, of course, was his partner. He wanted to see her, and not being allowed to only served to make his mood dark when he was awake. Logan and Barek agreed that keeping Goren and Eames apart was doing neither of them any good. So, in hushed tones, they devised a plan.

* * *

Midnight on the post-surgical floor was a quiet time. The staff was able to catch up on paperwork between hourly checks on the recovering patients who slept in their beds. Logan and Barek decided it was time. Daytime was too busy to do what they had planned, but the middle of the night was an ideal time. Logan got out of bed and grinned at Barek, wishing her luck before he wandered down the hall to the nurses' station, pushing the IV pole he continually tried to get them to take away from him. Three nurses sat the the computers and looked up when he leaned against the station desktop and grinned. "I'm bored," he said. 

"You should be sleeping," his nurse insisted.

"I'm feeling better. I don't have to sleep all the time, unless you want to keep me doped up like you insist on doing to my roommate."

She gave him a look. "Did you come out here to argue with us some more, Mike?"

"Not argue. Debate."

Barek heard the nurses talking with Logan and she smiled. He'd keep them busy for a little while. She ducked back into the room, turned on a small light and woke Goren. He opened his eyes and looked at her, confused. When his eyes began to close again, she jostled his shoulde rand whispered, "Come on, Bobby. Get up."

"Up?"

"Yes, up. As in out of bed...unless you would rather not see Alex."

That got his attention. He looked around. "Alex? Where?"

"If you want to see her, you have to get up."

Struggling to shake off the fog from his brain, he sat up. Barek helped him out of the bed. He wore hospital issue pajama bottoms but no shirt, and she pushed the IV pole, swallowing a surge of annoyance at the reminder that the only reason he had the IV was so they could keep him sedated. She led him to the door. Poking her head out, she heard soft laughter from the nurses' station and she smiled, amused.

Gently guiding Goren out of the room, she turned away from the sounds of the laughter and brought him to another room halfway down the hall. Pushing the door open, she pulled him into the room and closed the door. "Alex?" she softly called.

She heard movement on the bed in the dark, and a sleepy voice answered, "Carolyn? What time is it?"

"It's time to stop worrying," Barek answered.

Eames heard her approach, felt her grasp her hand, and was surprised when Barek placed her hand into another. Long fingers curled around her hand and soft breath caressed her face a second before she lost herself in a deep kiss, surrendering to arms that pulled her close against a broad chest. Easing herself back against the pillows, the world spun around her as she pulled him with her, welcoming the warmth of his body as it came to rest against hers, and she curled into him. Drawing a deep breath, she smelled soap, antiseptic and...him. Pressing herself as close to him as she could get, she sighed softly, holding on to him as she drifted off into a more peaceful sleep than she had been able to find for days.

He pressed his lips against her forehead and vowed no one would take her from him again. Gradually, he relaxed and he was unable to keep sleep at bay. But she was right there, where he needed her to be, and his sleep was easy and restful. He stopped fighting.

Barek smiled and slipped quietly from the room, returning to the room the two men shared, where she waited for Logan's nurse to bring him back. She suppressed a smile when the nurse stopped to stare at the empty bed. "Where did he go?"

Logan gave her an innocent look that made Barek choke back a laugh. "Who?"

"Your roommate."

"He was here when I left."

She looked at Barek, who shrugged. Logan slid up onto his bed as the nurse hurried from the room. As excited voices scurried about in the hall, Logan looked at Barek and smiled. "How'd it go?"

She returned his smile. "Perfect. Neither of them said anything. They just settled down together and they both went back to sleep."

"Good. " He leaned back against the pillows, smugly satisfied with himself and pleased with what they had done.

The nurses couldn't understand how Logan and Barek could profess to be Goren's friend and then smuggle him out of the hospital when he still needed care. One of them went into Eames' room, to see if she had any idea where he would have gone, and she stopped in her tracks at the sight that met her eyes when she turned on a light. Neither of them stirred, and she smiled. Turning off the light, she left the room and called off the search.

When the doctors made their rounds the next morning, the partners were still sleeping. Goren's nurse had not given him another dose of sedative, and it was obvious he was no longer fighting his body. He was finally allowing himself to rest and to heal. Eames likewise was resting easily. After a brief discussion, the doctors decided to leave them alone.

* * *

Eames woke just before lunch. Her parents were there, as they had been every day since she'd been shot. But more importantly, her partner was there, sleeping soundly beside her. She looked at her parents, who smiled at her. "It's about time they let you see each other," her father smiled. "We've been here since eight, and he hasn't moved." 

"Of course not. They keep sedating him," she replied bitterly, gently fingering his hair.

"No, honey," her father insisted. "His doctor came in here with yours at about eight-thirty, and we heard them talking. He hasn't been medicated at all. His last dose was at nine last night. He's finally resting...and so are you."

Eames snorted. "So I guess they've seen the error of their ways?"

John smiled. "I guess they have. Now you can stop arguing with them and get up out of that bed so you can go home soon."

To appease her parents, she let her nurse get her up for a little while after she had finished her lunch. She took a tour of the hall, making note of the room Goren and Logan shared, and then she returned to her bed. Her parents left to get something to eat in the cafeteria, and she nestled into her partner's side and went back to sleep.

Goren finally woke just after dinner. Eames snuggled down into the bed, turning onto her side to face him, and smiled. "Well, hello there."

He returned her smile. "Eames," he whispered, raising a hand to touch her cheek. "Are you...I mean...how are you?"

"Much better now. How do you feel?"

"Still tired, and kind of sore, but better."

"Better is good. What do you remember?"

"Not much. Everything is kind of hazy. How...did I get in here?"

"Carolyn brought you in last night, and the staff let you stay. I don't think they'll be inclined to keep us apart any more."

"Good. I...need you."

"That's nice to hear," she said softly. "I need you, too."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I'm..." She searched for the right word. "...Incomplete without you."

"Incomplete..." He let the word tumble about in his mind for a few minutes. "That's a good way to put it," he agreed.

He returned to his own room, where Logan teased him about waking up in Eames' bed. The medical staff no longer restricted them from one another, and Goren no longer needed to be sedated. He was content to remain in the hospital, as long as Eames was there.

* * *

When Goren was discharged, he returned to the hospital every day to visit Logan and sit with Eames. Logan went home the week after he did, followed by Eames, ten days later. Goren had made no friends by talking Butch into turning himself and his brother in, but Ross respected what he'd done and backed him up. He had seen the rage in Goren after his partner had been shot and he understood what it had taken the man, himself carrying physical ramifications of Butch's killing spree, to set aside his emotions and do what was right. 

Butch was convicted on every charge that had been brought against him, but it was Goren's testimony that had spared him the death penalty and secured for the young man orders from the court for the therapy he needed. Tad, who had been raised on a diet of hatred, was given a lesser sentence, with a chance for parole, another chance at life, on the completion of intensive therapy, since he had not actually committed any of the murders.

* * *

Goren sat at his desk, flipping through a file as he focused his thoughts on the details of the case. Across from him, Eames was busy writing, making a list of reasons to present to Randall as justification for the search warrant they wanted. He remained lost in thought until a crumpled paper bounced off his temple. He looked up with a frown, eyes searching the room for the source of the paper projectile. It didn't take any effort to figure it out, since Wheeler was staring at her partner. "What are you, twelve?" 

Logan was laughing and he caught the paper ball that Goren threw back at him. Eames didn't look up, but she shook her head. The sound of her partner's laughter brought a smile to her face and her heart felt light. She looked up at Goren, who was talking with Logan. After so many years of weighting them down, each with their own burdens and their own demons, life, finally, was good...and they were happy.

_fin. _


End file.
